Last Stand
by PillowsWithWings
Summary: A discharged soldier must protect himself and other survivors against superhuman infected citizens.


**Prologue**

"Sample T-Seventeen complete, proceeding to next test," Doctor Hardwin Richards spoke into his audio recorder. "Additional notes on T-Seventeen, although the virus has the ability to multiply, the cells have a relatively short lifespan, resulting in their death before the colony could reproduce a significant number. This issue could possibly be directly connected to a gene randomization in Alpha Nine Two. Of course, there is no way to change it now. Onto the next sample: T-Eighteen."

Doctor Richards worked at the Center of Disease Control and Prevention at the University of Pittsburg, in Pennsylvania. He had a doctorate in biological engineering, which he proudly displayed in the lobby of his work place, and he was a published author in the field of biological chemistry, receiving multiple awards for his contributions in the medical area. He was a man of average build; taller than the everyday man. Yet what he lacked in physical prowess, he made up for in intelligence. He had dark brown hair, which had started to grey on the sides. His eyes were a light blue, nearly cyan, which both soothed and terrified most. He was a very masculine individual, with a jaw line as sharp as his scalpel. His hands were as precise as a high powered laser from years of microscopic experimentation. The wrinkles that tainted his once fine, pale face was a clear indication of the many nights he spent up calculating advanced mathematics and testing with organisms, morphing their genetic make up to his will. His voice wasn't the deepest, but it was low enough to strike fear into most men. Overall, Hardwin was a very intimidating man. Yet, he was excessively mellow.

"T-Eighteen, composed of my own concoction of a rare, Eastern European virus, and a small sample of modified Malaria, has a longer lifespan than T-Seventeen, but, unlike T-Seventeen, this strand doesn't divide into four daughter cells, making only two." Richards slid a sample of T-Eighteen under his high powered microscope, and viewed the organism.

"Doctor!" the loud speaker sounded off in the laboratory, echoing off the walls. Tearing through the silence of the lab, Hardwin was startled. He jumped in his seat, and then proceeded to put his head into his palms.

"Yes?" He asked, with agitation in his voice. Hardwin wasn't a big fan of sudden noises or surprises.

"Oh, dear… did I startle you? I am so sorry, sir," the female voice said over the loudspeaker with pure innocence and sincerity.

"Just a bit, dear." The startled doctor whispered.

"I am so sorry, I really am," the girl sounded so sweet to Hardwin. He couldn't stay hold a grudge. "I just wanted to tell you that that sample you ordered has arrived. Do you want me to send the man in there now? Or should I hold off and leave it in storage?"

"It arrived already? Fantastic! Send him in right away!" Hardwin instructed the girl. "Oh, and tell him to equip a protective suit to go through the decontamination shower."

Hardwin knew that it would take the person who was delivering his sample a while to get ready to enter the lab, so Hardwin made use of that time. He cleaned off his cluttered work table, organizing the papers that ranged from bills to intricate reports into their respective pies. He stored certain viruses into their proper storage freezer, and he checked to make sure that nothing hazardous could escape the lab when the delivery man left.

An automated voice rang through the room, yet again breaking the silence that Hardwin loved so much, "Starting decontamination process," it said. "Scanning…" A low humming noise was heard from within the circular room the far corner of Hardwin's lab. Through the red glass, Hardwin could distinguish the facility's dark green hazard suits. The man in the chamber was holding a small container, most likely air tight.

"Foreign body detected, starting decontamination process," the voice sounded off again. The light sounds of water hitting synthetic fibers pattered through the door. After a few moments of Hardwin staring at the chamber, it opened. "Decontamination, complete."

"Here's your sample, sir." The man said when he walked out of the chamber and greeted Hardwin. He handed over the small, chrome-colored box.

"Thank you very much. Now, I don't mean to be such a rude host, but I strongly advise you to leave the facility immediately. Dangerous chemicals are at work here. We don't want you getting infected with anything." Hardwin said, cracking a smile.

The man stared at Hardwin suspiciously. He agreed, and was clearly bothered by the way Hardwin treated him. The doctor set the box onto his table, and rushed the deliverer to the decontamination post. He opened the chamber for the man to be cleansed, and so he could begin his work.

"Make sure to return the suit!" Hardwin shouted through the two way monitor to him as he quickly walked down the long corridor to the changing rooms.

Hardwin rushed back to his work desk, eager to see what this specimen could hold. Opening the box, he was surprised when he noticed that the 'small sample' he was _supposed _to receive was actually a fairly large vial, holding around a few pints of a red fluid.

"A new sample has arrived into the lab mere moments ago. The sample from Europe I mentioned earlier this week was delivered today, a few days ahead of schedule. I am without hesitation. This virus' properties intrigue me to an extraordinary level. The professor who was studying a local tribe in Africa has discovered this new virus. Upon viewing the first of the tribesmen to fall ill, he noticed certain characteristics of the disease. First, the subject would have flu-like symptoms, which was rare to the native peoples of Africa.

"He then went on to explain how these symptoms got increasing worse, to the point where the patient were to suffer severe dementia, and disturbing hallucinations. They then suffered from insanity, screaming about severe pain throughout their body, and how they felt as if their bones were on fire.

"The most fascinating part of this whole infectious disease is how fast it spreads and post-mortem characteristics of the deceased. The entire tribe had fallen ill in under five hours of the initial case of the virus. The first death happened in around three.

"When the professor performed an autopsy on the body, what took its course was nothing like he had ever seen before: the skin wouldn't be sliced by the scalpel! The skin was almost diamond hard, according to his accounts. When he finally found the proper tool to open the body – a machete – he found that the skin had a shallow glimmer to it.

"After taking a sample, he viewed that the cell was completely opaque. When he returned to the lab, luckily uninfected, he attempted to extract the nucleus of the cell, only to find out that the needle would not penetrate the cell. It seems as though that this virus alters cells, possibly bone marrow and the brain. The cause of the death of the tribesmen who caught it was most likely due to the severe pain they received, if this virus was to infect cells, and alter their genetic and physical make-up."

Hardwin slowly and patiently extracted a small amount of the virus and prepared a slide. He was like a child in a candy store. Millions of thoughts rushed through his head while he carefully set the slide, putting a single drop from his extractor onto the glass pane. He wanted to know this organism's secrets, what possibilities this could do for mankind. He was more surprised at the fact that he had obtained even a single cell of this virus; the copious amounts of time spent on convincing certain officials dragged him through the dirt for days.

Once prepared, Hardwin slid the specimen under the microscope. He viewed it with such anticipation he was virtually shaking in his seat. He was not disappointed.

The cells was completely blacked out, like what the professor said, but luckily, Hardwin had ordered a special set of extraction needles for this cell. Sliding the atom-thin needle head into the cell's membrane, its opaque status faded, and what Hardwin saw was unlike anything he has seen or read about.

Attached to the outer wall of the cell were a series of tentacle like cords. They connected into the nucleus, which was lined with a series of small spikes in between the cords. He chuckled under his breath, and attempted to extract the cell's nucleus, although, the cords seemed to be holding it in place. Not on his watch. Hardwin was a little forceful, but he was able to take the nucleus out. The cell shriveled into a tiny crumple of microscopic particles.

He immediately grabbed his recorder, pressing the little red button on the top, and began to speak. "I have successfully extracted the nucleus from the infected cell. This is probably the most fascinating this I have ever laid eyes upon," he said into his audio recorder. As he prepared a skin cell sample for testing, he explained what he saw into the recorder.

"I will now proceed to plant the nucleus into a human skin cell. Hopefully, the nucleuses will react with each other, and an interesting reaction will occur." Hardwin told his recorder, silently praying for a new, ground-breaking occurrence.

Hardwin, yet again, was not disappointed.

"Once the infected nucleus was injected into the normal human skin cell, the infected cell seemed to… engulf the uninfected nucleus." Hardwin said in astonishment. "The cords from the other cell have just emitted from the nucleus, and have attached to the outer wall of the cell." Upon finishing his sentence, the call went opaque again, catching what was left of Hardwin's undivided attention.

"The cell has just gone dark, like the other one." He said again, keeping his recorder up-to-date with the events that were unfolding under his microscope.

Suddenly, the cell returned to its transparent state, and divided. The two daughter cells then seemed to form the same, opaque layer that Hardwin was suspecting was a type of defense.

Hardwin was astounded. He wanted to see what would happen if he were to alter the virus, and see what it could do for someone. The thought implanted into his brain, he took certain amounts of the virus, and set them into his Disperser, which would release a certain enzyme that will modify the genetic makeup of the cells. This, according to Hardwin and his quick-thinking routine, should make this virus re-enforce an individual's body, making him, overall, better than before.

Hardwin rushed to the decontamination chamber after he set up the Disperser. When he was decontaminated, he ran down the hallway and changed out of his suit, throwing on casual clothes. He grabbed his car keys, his wallet, and an assortment of miscellaneous objects he carried as everyday items.

Hardwin walked at a quick pace, exiting the facility and hopping in his 2024 Sedan. He started the engine with a scan of his fingerprint, and the engine roared to life. His car might've been outdated, but it still had a kick to it.

He drove out of the parking lot, the car's wheels and axel squeaking with every slight movement. His hand was clutched around his recorder like a scared girl's around a teddy bear.

"Alright, I am currently leaving the facility and heading throughout town, to find I willing subject to help with my experiments," he used the term 'willing' very loosely.

His stomach growled. He hasn't eaten anything all day, since he spent every waking hour inside his laboratory. He drove into the parking lot of a local market, unsure if he wanted to waste valuable time getting an unhealthy meal. He eventually decided to get a small snack to hold him over.

He calmly walked into the store, browsing the various plastic bags that kept the fried snacks. He settled with potato chips, not wanting to waste any more time on something this trivial. He brought it up to the counter, and paid the snack's set price.

While the cashier processed the transaction, a woman wearing revealing clothing came into the store. She was relatively short, with a smooth face with bore light brown hair. She did not look healthy; she seemed sickly. She reminded Hardwin of the local corner-workers. If his hunch was right, she would be one, and he could use her in his experiment.

"Here's your change, sir," the cashier said handing Hardwin his small bag of chips and 36 cents.

"Keep the change," Hardwin said, keeping his eyes on the petite woman who browsed the alcohol in the freezer at the back of the store.

He exited the store, got into his car, and drove off. He thought it would be a good idea if he were to get a prostitute, because, in his mind, they wouldn't be missed.

He drove around the city, the cold November wind blowing around plastic bags and loose newspapers. The only source of light was the street lamps, and his car's headlights. All the windows were dark. Hardwin didn't know what time it was, since the clock in his office was off by a few hours, and the car's clock was broken due to old age of the vehicle.

He checked his watch, which was the only thing he had to keep track of time, since he had no cellular device like most have now.

The time was a quarter past one. He didn't expect the time to fly by while in the lab. He was supposed to be off at ten o'clock. Yet, he enjoyed the time he spent doing his increasingly difficult occupation. His work ethic exceeded that of any other biologist.

While driving down a side road, he noticed the same woman as before. She was drinking from a bottle, which he suspected that she bought from the convenience store. She had a few more, similarly dressed women behind her. His hunch was right: she worked the corner.

He parked his car at the side of the street, and turned off the engine. He watched as the woman stood, obviously looking cold on her fishnet leggings and practically paper thin tank top. This woman was going to get sicker if she continued to dress this way.

Hardwin opened up the bag of potato chips. The bag was nearly empty, and the salty aroma of the fried snack was repulsive to him. Cringing from the smell, he braved it, and ate them. Whilst he ate, he kept his eyes on the woman. Cars stopped in front of her, their lips moved, but they were too far for Hardwin to hear anything.

Each car arrived, and eventually left. After the third car, Hardwin took it upon himself to see why these people didn't pick her up. He brought his engine to life, and drove over to the woman. He lowered the window.

"Hey, miss, you look rather cold," he said to her, checking out her shaking body, making it seem like he was interested in what she had to offer.

"No, sorry, I'm waiting for someone," she responded not even glancing at Hardwin. She kept her eyes down the street, looking back and forth at the crossroads that she stood on, looking for this supposed 'someone.'

"Whatever he is paying, I'll double- no, _triple_, the amount," Hardwin lied through his teeth. If there was one thing this silver-tongued doctor was good at, it was having an excellent skill at convincing anyone to do anything.

She looked to him, her eyes as wide as a deer's in headlights. "Really? You'll triple two-hundred?" she said. She seemed unbelievable excited at the thought of receiving six hundred dollars. Then again, who wouldn't be?

Hardwin stared straight ahead and let out a small sigh. He was shocked at the immense amount of money she was making. He wondered exactly whom she was serving. "Yes, ma'am, six hundred dollars." He wanted to make sure he sealed the deal with this woman so she wouldn't change her mind. Being a skilled deceiver, he was able to convince her. She must've been drawn by the thought of the money, because she walked over to the car's passenger side, and got in. It was if her entire thought process was altered by this man and his offer.

Hardwin headed his way down the crossroads, and eventually, struck up a conversation with the woman.

"So, what are you doing? With that 'job'." he asked.

She gave him a sour look. "Why is it any of your business?" She asked, obviously irritated by his intrusion of her lifestyle.

"I'm just curious. You don't look like a regular prostitute. Most of them are very unsanitary. You, on the other hand, aren't." Hardwin told her. She didn't appear to be a native to this line of work. She was decently groomed and she seemed too innocent to be following this path.

"Well, if you're interested, I'll guess I'll tell you… I'm doing it for a little extra money. I'm not the wealthiest of people. I live in a one bedroom apartment in the southern part of the city. I have a daughter by the name of Carrie I'm trying to support, along with myself. I work this job because it makes easy money, yet I just started a few weeks ago. I originally worked at a convenience store, about a block from my house." She went on, telling Hardwin the unfortunate story about how she got into her current predicament.

"Oh, dear. I am terribly sorry…" Hardwin said, with the utmost sincerity in his voice. He almost felt bad about infecting her with a virus with a possibility of endangering her life. "My name is Doctor Hardwin Richards. And yours?"

"Leslie. Leslie Howittz. Wait, aren't you that doctor that 'renowned' doctor? I know you. One of my close friends mentions you a lot. He is fascinated with your work. He hasn't talked about you lately, though." Leslie began. "So, wait, what is the intelligent, award-winning doctor doing getting a prostitute?" She asked him, suspicious of his motives.

"Well," he began, "I need a patient to help me with a new serum I've been experimenting with, and I thought you would be a good choice. This isn't going to harm you, but it should alter your genetic makeup, making you more resistant to pain and such."

"What? No!" She yelled.

Hardwin stopped the car with a screech and turned to her, his seemingly glowing eyes looking deep into her dark green ones. She was terrified, yet she obliged. She couldn't say no, she felt like that wasn't an option.

"Good," he said, cracking a slight smile. He continued to drive. The car ride to the office was silent, the engine making the only noise between them.

Once he pulled into the lot of the university, he checked his watch. A quarter to two. He should have enough time to inject her with the virus, and the Disperser should have finished its job. He got out of the car, the engine turning off with him exiting it. Leslie did the same, and followed the tall Hardwin into his workplace.

The automatic doors slid open, and the light went from their dim, dormant state, to bright. They nearly blinded Leslie with their intensity. Hardwin, becoming accustomed to it, was naturally unaffected.

He entered the changing room, telling Leslie to wait outside the room. He quickly changed into his protective suit. Upon seeing him in his getup, she was suspicious as to why he got into that suit.

"Why did you get into that…" she asked.

"It's for my own protection," he said, adjusting the air tight suit. He led her down the corridor to the decontamination chamber, which was the only thing separating them from possibly the most lethal virus known to man.

They stepped inside, and as the monotone voice initiated the sequence, Hardwin stood perfectly still, while Leslie was cautious of it.

"What is this stuff?" she asked, unknowing whether or not it was one of Hardwin's odd experiments.

"It's just a decontamination agent, nothing to be afraid of. Let it cleanse you, we don't want any foreign contaminants tainting the laboratory. That would most certainly have a negative outcome."

Once the doors opened, Hardwin headed to the Disperser. The confirmation of its completion pleased Hardwin. He smiled, and opened up the rare machine. The vial was a lighter shade of red than the original vial, so the process must have worked.

"Please, sit in this chair, Leslie." Hardwin pulled out a metal chair from the corner of the room, and set it next to the Disperser for her. She did as she was told.

"What will this do for me, exactly?" she asked. She was nervous, very nervous, on that note.

"Like I said in the car, it should alter your genetic makeup. It should alter your cells, and make it so certain amounts of pain seem less hurtful than they actually are, although, I'm not sure of the side effects, since I haven't experimented with it before. I will first need a sample of your blood to see if the serum is compatible with you blood type."

On that note, he opened drawer after drawer, trying to remember where he stored the needles. Most of the drawers were filled with papers and reports he wrote on various diseases and infections. He eventually found them, and removed one for his use.

Hardwin prepared Leslie for the blood sample. He took a good amount, as well. She flinched at the slight pain in her arm from the amount, but she braved through it. After all, she _was_ getting a large sum of money.

When the received his sample, he viewed it, and took the new batch of the virus to Leslie's blood. Like the other strand of the virus, it infected the cell, but both the infection and reproduction times were drastically decreased. This new virus and its effects were unknown to Hardwin, thus he would be on a need-to-know basis when Leslie was infected.

He prepared another needle for the initial injection, and he knew what might have happened next would change humanity for the better. That is, if this even actually worked.

He prepared Leslie, and injected her with the needle with the virus. Her veins in her arm around the injection area turned into a faded black, while she stared in horror at the pain that coursed her body.

"What is this?" she said weakly. The pain became excruciating, as her arm slowly was engulfed by a red hue that was an abnormal skin tone. When her entire arm was red, the blood vessels slowly followed with their same black shading as around the injection area.

This fascinated Hardwin. He gazed in awe as her entire body grew into an abnormal skin tone, and the visible veins, arteries, and capillaries that lined her skin all became black.

All the while, the poor woman screamed in such sheer pain. She was being torn apart by this virus, and she didn't even know it. She was unprepared for this. The immense pain was too much. She writhed on the ground, thrashing at her skin, begging for the pain to finally end, but it didn't. It wouldn't.

Hardwin stepped back, and let the thrashing woman go throughout whatever phase this was. He didn't know what exactly this was doing to her, but he had a feeling it _was_ changing her. He was intrigued, he wanted to document it. He reached for his audio recorder, which wasn't on the table, where it normally should be. He left it in his coat pocket, in the changing room. He needed it; he needed to document what was happening to Leslie.

He walked around her and headed to the chamber. He soaked in the fluid, and once he was released, ran down the hall as quick as his untrained body would carry him. The screaming was heard down the hall, and as he ruffled through his jacket, realized after a few moments, it stopped.

"I have just injected a subject with a modified version of the virus from Africa," he said into it, "and, upon being injected, she began to change in skin tone, from a pale white to a light red, almost pink color. The veins around the injection area turned into a black, and as the color of her skin changed, so did the blood vessels. She began to scream about immense pain, and she clawed at her body."

Hardwin kept the recorder running as he sprinted back to the entrance of the lab. He activated the chamber, putting the recorder to an area of the shower that wasn't in the way of the water, as to not damage the recorder, and nearly weeks of scientific recordings.

As the shower continued, he glared through the glass. Leslie was not screaming anymore, due to the fact she wasn't even in the room anymore. She was just gone. Hardwin was shocked.

"Where did she go?" he whispered as the doors opened and he grabbed his recorder. He slowly walked into the lab, looking in every corner. The only remains of Leslie were a decently large puddle of blood, although the color wasn't crimson, yet more of a lighter hue, and a trail, ending midway through the room.

Hardwin's heart began to race. Where could she have gone? There was no possible way for her to escape the facility. The only exit was the decontamination chamber, and the scanner would have recognized the foreign body, and she would have perished.

Suddenly, banging was heard throughout the ceiling, and when Hardwin looked up, he noticed part of the ceiling was missing. His heart rate was higher than it had ever been. How could she have gotten up there? She couldn't possibly have the leg strength to jump nearly a story. No human could.

Suddenly, a loud, ear piercing shriek blared through the hole, and he was sure it echoed throughout the whole complex. He flinched drastically from the sound, and tried to find a place to hide, as was his instinct.

"What have I done?" he asked himself, "what monstrosity have I just unleashed?" He knew what he did was going to be terrible. He checked his watch, the time was three o'clock. Hopefully, he wouldn't be slaughtered by whatever he just created. He hid like a child, escaping from whatever monster could be lurking through the complex. "This virus was something," Hardwin thought, "that I shouldn't have been dabbling with."

**Chapter One**

Samuel awoke crudely to the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance. He sat up, removing the dirty, torn blanket from his lap. He scratched his chin, his five o'clock shadow prickling his finger tips. He yawned, stretched, and then got up. He picked the blanket off the ground, and put it into the trash can, and in its place took out a mirror, and his toothbrush, the rising sun being his only source of light

He walked down to the local convenience store, where his good friend worked. Before walking inside, he checked the pocket mirror to make sure he didn't look too bad. Since he had brought his clothes to the cleaners, he looked somewhat decent. His short beard and his light brown hair mixed well. For once, he didn't actually look homeless.

He walked inside, and asked if he could borrow the key for the restroom. While the cashier scavenged around for it, Samuel checked the time. It was almost six. It was earlier then he usually got up. He usually never got up at that time. Maybe that's why his friend wasn't working at then. The guy hanged Samuel the key, which was attached to a piece of plastic around a foot long, which bore the store's logo on it. He was so used to the logo.

As he walked around the corner of the store to the bathroom, he started to daydream, like he usually did. Samuel was in the army. He served under a battle hardened Sergeant, and therefore, mirrored his personality. To a fault, that is. Samuel served three tours in the war between the United States and Russia, after a long Cold War that severely crippled the world's entire economic state. The feud between the two super nations was probably the biggest in the history of man.

Samuel Greene was a good soldier. While playing on his high school and college football and boxing teams, he was already in good shape, and knew the basics to fighting. This was a plus. He graduated top of his squad in 2021, and proceeded to fight in the army for three years of his life. He came home three and a half years later, when he was dishonorably discharged with a Section Eight. He suffered from insanity, after seeing what had happened during the battles in Europe. Not even out of his late twenties, Samuel had no job, and could barely support himself.

He then met Stacey, who he fell for almost instantly. She was a waitress at his favorite childhood diner. He dated her for about two years, and then proposed to her. Of course, she said yes. When Samuel turned thirty-two, they had their first and only child, who they named George, after Stacey's father who died of lung cancer.

The years progressed, and Samuel was diagnosed with severe depression, the insanity being labeled as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He was prescribed medication that didn't help, and that he felt only made his depression worse. To find an alternative way to combat his depression, he turned to sleep and seclusion. While his emotional state spiraled downwards, he became less and less interested in the events unfolding around him.

His relationship with his wife deteriorated, which didn't help their already uneasy marriage. His son seemed to dislike him, which was what Samuel read from the toddler's facial expression. While he closed himself off to the world, knowing only empty cigarette packs, the bottom of vodka bottles, and the seemingly endless city, his wife had had enough, and threw him out.

With only a few dollars to his name, and the clothes on his back, Samuel finally came to his senses. He knew that Stacey wouldn't take him back; she wasn't that type of woman. He eventually started to become a beggar, being spat on by passers and sleeping under old newspapers in the park. His depression became worse.

That was until Leslie had come around. She was a sweet girl. Being about ten years younger than Samuel, she was very sympathetic about his situation. Since she worked at a convenience store, she promised to give him small helpings of food every morning when she arrived into work.

He appreciated her generosity with all of his being. He started to get his life back on track. Yet, his depression was still as bad as before. He ignored it for the longest time, and on the day of his thirty-sixth birthday, it struck back with a vengeance. He couldn't keep doing this. He missed Stacy, his son, and his old life. He couldn't change it now.

Samuel stepped into the small, disgusting bathroom, and looked at himself. He was dirty, that was obvious. He doesn't remember the time that he ever had an unshaven face, or a head of groomed hair.

He turned on the sink. The entire scenario was very common to him. After all, he came here every morning on his way to the park, and always cleaned himself up. He rinsed his dirt caked hands, and drenched his head under the sink, removing the layers of filth from his wrinkly, grizzled face. After drying himself off with the low-budget paper towels, he looked into the mirror. He looked so tired, his sky blue eyes stared back, and he realized that he was going nowhere, like he realized did every morning.

When he finished, he went back inside to hand the man the key. He checked the clock in the wall again. It was now five after six. He sighed and said thank you to the men for lending him the key.

When he walked outside, he looked at the rising sun. He thought about where she could be. He missed her, and he needed a hug to start his day off.

Since her shift started at about six, he sat by the entrance and waited for about a half hour. The only reason he left is because the cashier from the store threatened to call the police for loitering. Samuel obliged, and ended up leaving. He thought she might be home, or on her way to the store. Since she didn't own a car, he followed the same route she took to work.

When he arrived at the apartment building that she worked at, he prepared to enter. He never liked the building. It brought back memories from when he and Stacey first moved in together. Samuel braved the repressed, hurtful memories and walked into the rundown building. He looked at the mail boxes in the wall. He scanned every one until he found what he was looking for.

Leslie Howittz – 3rd Floor, 3C

That was the one. He couldn't wait to see her.

As he walked up the stair case leading up to the third floor, he couldn't help but overhear a foreign family screaming, fighting with each other on the first, a man crying on the second, and dogs barking on the third. Leslie's apartment was across the hall from the one with the barking dogs. As he knocked on the door, the dogs' barking grew louder. They bothered Samuel. He never liked animals.

After a few minutes of knocked, he still didn't receive a response. He knew where she kept a spare key, on top of the doorframe. He took it down, and unlocked the old, partially decayed door. Once inside, he looked around. He found Leslie's daughter, Carrie, who Samuel loved as his own, yet no sign of Leslie.

Samuel woke up the sleeping child and asked in his sweetest voice possible, "Hey, sweetie, it's Sammy, do you know where mommy is?"

She sat up slowly, not even opening her eyes.

"No, Sammy. She didn't come home last night after she went out for her night job." She spoke softly. The child knew nothing of what her mother started to keep her happy and safe.

Samuel was getting worried. He kissed her forehead and left. As he walked down the stairs, he saw one of the women Leslie had worked with during her night job.

"Hey," she called to him in a thick Spanish accent. "Were you visiting Leslie?" She asked. It appeared she was looking for the missing woman, too.

"I haven't. That's why I came to her house. She was supposed to be at her day job, but she never went in for her shift. I waited for her, and thought she might be sick. I stopped by, yet she was nowhere to be found. Her young daughter is alone in the apartment though. Would it be troublesome for you to stay there and wait to see if Leslie arrives?" Samuel calmly and collectively asked her.

"No, it wouldn't be an issue," the woman said, she also sounded a bit worried about her co-workers disappearance.

Samuel thanked her, and walked down the stairs; he stopped after a few moments and called back to the woman. "Hey, wait!" he cried, "Do you know anything about last night that might help me find her?"

"Well, at around two in the morning, a man drove up to her, asking for her to come in. He offered a large amount of money for her services; he tripled what her previous customer was going to pay. While he drove off, I caught the license plate number, but only the first half of it. I think it was J7DF. I'm not sure. I also saw a bumper sticker on it. The car was from the university in the northern part of the city.

Samuel was a decent distance away from that university. It would easily take him a half hour to even run there. Nevertheless, he was going to take his chances.

"Thank you very much, ma'am." Samuel was at a loss of words. His mind was racing with thoughts of what could have happened to his friend. Samuel flew down the stairs, reaching the lobby and heading outside.

More sirens wailed in the distance, more sirens than usual. Something was happening. Samuel knew his way around the city, and knew which way to take. He started down the street, which was surprisingly empty. He ran down side streets, alleyways, and cut through any shortcut he could find. He was about a half a mile there, when a crowd of people standing in front of a store caught his attention. They all looked horrified as flashes from a television shone off their faces.

Overall, it took him about twenty minutes to get to his current location. His years of military service sure did pay off. Breathing heavily, he walked over to the crowd, and watched the television.

"… And reports say that this massacre happened this morning, at around four. So far, for the viewers who have just tuned in, there has been a mass homicide at the University of Pittsburg. Most of the campus was slaughtered, while others, who were attacked and survived, proceeded to attack their fellow classmates. Diana Polk has more on the story, Diana?"

The feed cut from the anchorwoman to an attractive blonde. She looked scared, behind her, firemen, police, and paramedics all stood around the smoke filled entrance.

"Hello, Julia. I am in front of the Center of Disease Control at the university, where there has been reports of homicides, and seemingly indestructible murderers. As you can see behind me, the police have arrived, and from what I overheard, the SWAT team is being deployed to deal with this homicidal crisis. Along with them, paramedics and firefighters have also arrived, probably being deployed to carve a way though this torn building.

"I am not one hundred percent sure of what happened in there to cause the massive explosion, but I know that it certainly has been big enough to-"

Diana was cut off from another one of the explosions, which destroyed the second story of a nearby building.

"Oh my god…" she said softly. She glared in awe as the fire engulfed the rest of the floor, shattering windows and spewing out ash.

"Diana! Look!" the camera man said, pointing at the entrance with the officers.

The camera focused on the entrance, filled with smoke. A single man shuffled out of the building, obviously disoriented from the nearby explosion. The smoke clouded his appearance, but it was obvious her was hurt.

As he walked stiffly out of the smoke, his appearance cleared up. He looked insane. His eyes were bloodshot; they looked like multiple capillaries had burst. His mouth was caked with a red substance, which everyone knew almost immediately was blood. His hands were clenched into a fist, fresh blood dripping off of them.

After the man had exited the smoke, he looked around. His eyes were scarring, his face looking like it belonged in a haunted house. He stared at every last person surrounding the entrance. A police officer walked up to him, his left arm extended out towards him, and his right hand on his belt.

No audible dialogue could be heard from the camera's distance, but everyone had a feeling the man was being asked by the officer if he needed medical attention. The officer signaled for the paramedics to approach him, and they did so, cautiously.

The entire Channel Five news team and their audience were not prepared for what would happen next. As the two paramedics hesitantly walked over to the clearly injured man, he let out a blood curdling scream. The scream was of an incredibly high volume, causing the people present around the man to cringe at it.

Then, the man charged the first paramedic. He darted at him at an incredible speed, hoisting him up by the collar, and spearing the poor medic through the abdomen. The crowd gasped in horror, Diana shrieked.

"Oh my god!" she cried, tears forming at the corners of her blue eyes.

The cops drew their pistols and open fired on the creature. It was impossible for a normal human to impale his arm through another with such little effort. The creature seemed to have some form of intelligence, because he used the dying paramedic as a shield from the wall of small caliber bullets rushing towards him. Bullet by bullet, the paramedic's body was torn apart. As the man stared into the paramedic's face, the life draining from his body, he let out a primal growl.

When the police men finally shot their last bullet, the creature tossed the body to the side. The paramedic's body was unidentifiable from before. His body painted with blood, the man let out another gut retching screech, this time, prolonging it. Windows shattered and car alarms went off. The police we not prepared for this.

Shortly after the windows shattered, a SWAT truck pulled into the blood stained parking lot. Skidding to a halt, the back doors opened. The SWAT members hurried out of the truck. All the while, Diana's cameraman kept rolling.

The SWAT aimed their submachine guns at the lethal creature. In a pouncing stance, he let out short, high pitched wails. The SWAT members were secretly terrified, but hid it.

Suddenly, the creature darted at the team members, mauling them to pieces as the innocent bystanders and stunned cops gazed in fear and awe. The creature was too fast for the law enforcement, and made quick work of the unprepared officers. Limbs strewn over the asphalt, blood filling in cracks and small potholes, the man stood in the middle of it all. He breathed heavily, and then turned to Diana and the cameraman, and made a quick sprint, stopping in front of them. He stood there for a moment, as if inspecting them. He punched Diana, which sent her flying back, and took the cameraman, throwing him into the wall.

The cameraman was thrown with such great force, that his body splattered the wall with crimson. The camera fell to the ground, the glass cracking. Before the screen cut to black, the last thing seen on Channel Five was the man standing over Diana, landing blow after blow onto her young face. After a few punches, it seemed as if he had flattened her head. Punch after punch, the blood shot into the air in little droplets. The screen cut to black.

Samuel was horrified. There were no words to describe how disgusted he was. He nearly threw up on the side walk, but instead dry heaved, since he hadn't eaten anything all morning.

After he recovered from his heaving, he thought of Leslie, as if she had ever been of his mind since this morning. He ran away from the crowd, in the direction of the university. He knew what he was going into, and he made it his mission to find his friend. He knew the price.

He arrived within minutes of seeing the horrors on the television, and seeing them in person made him even sicker. He nearly started dry heaving again. He held it back, and proceeded to walk towards the entrance. The dust in the doorway from the video had settled, but there was still a small amount there.

Samuel looked around him, seeing the bodies of mutilated officers reminded him of the front in Europe, how his enemies sent attack dogs, ruthless ones at that, to hold off Samuel and his battalion's advance. The dogs ripped apart anything they got their teeth around, biting through flesh like butter.

He knew he wouldn't stand a chance against whatever was in the building, so Samuel took it upon himself to gather a weapon and ammunition for it. He looked mainly in the possession of the SWAT members, who were armed with a decent array of weaponry.

Only able to find a few magazines for their submachine guns, Samuel decided to loot the police officers for their pistols and ammunition. He had only found the pistol, in the dead grip of the law.

He prepared himself for the horrors inside the building. He might have been physically prepared, but his scarred mind would never have survived what would be inside

He hurried into the door, and scanned the main lobby of the campus. He looked around the desks, which were covered in blood, for a map of the university. Lights flickering overhead, he had trouble seeing anything. At last, when he looked up at the wall, he saw an enlarged map of the area. His destination, the Center of Disease Control, was on the other side of the campus, which possibly had so many more of those monsters waiting for him.

Walking cautiously to the doors which led to a small garden, Samuel aimed his gun at the sets of double doors. The glass panes were splattered with blood, like a morbid abstract painting.

He stepped out to the garden, which was as dark as the parking lot and lobby. Windows were shattered, blood filling the spaces in between the bricks of the path as Samuel walked. The thing that mortified him the most was the fountain. The fountain, standing at around twenty feet high, was pouring with blood. It didn't look like blood was spilt with a body or so, but more like the fountain's fluid supply was not water, but pure blood.

Looking away from the satanic sculpture, Samuel proceeded to the doors that led to the CDC building. When he stepped in front of the entrance, the doors slid open for him. He stepped inside. The lights strobed like they did in the main lobby. Sounds of scraping could be heard down the halls. Samuel looked to his left, trying to find signs that would lead him to a laboratory.

To his left, he saw a sign leading to a storage space. In front of him, he saw another sign, which indicated that there were bathrooms. The sign to his right indicated the changing rooms, showers, and laboratory entrance. He sighed in relief, but the feeling didn't last long.

Down the hall, two figures were crouched over an object. The sounds of flesh tearing and meat being chewed echoed down the hall, amplified by the smooth designs of the walls.

"Hey! You guys!" He called nervously towards them. They stopped. The gnawing went silent as they crouched there, motionless. The two turned slowly towards Samuel, looking just like the man that slaughtered the cops mere minutes before Samuel arrived.

They roared at Samuel, starting at a run towards him. He froze for a moment, but soon aimed his gun and shot the two with a wave of bullets.

The men quickly arrived near Samuel. Before they arrived to him, he killed one, the other upper cutting him, sending him flying. Before he could hit the ground, the man reached Samuel midair and threw him to the ground, nearly making him unconscious. Stunned, Samuel laid there. He thought of death, and how he would fail to save Leslie.

His thoughts were soon erased from his mind as repeated gunfire tore through the room. The man seemed to fight it, but eventually, the man fell to the ground, dead.

Three men rushed to Samuel's side, talking to each other while checking his body.

"Any bites?" the first man asked, sliding Samuel's pants legs up and checking his calves.

"I don't think so, he would've turned by now," the second said, checking his arms after rolling Samuel's torn jacket sleeves up.

"Let's get him to the lab; he should be safe with us there." The third said.

"Did that doctor find a way to patch the hole in the ceiling yet?" the first asked the third.

"Not yet, but that's why he has us covering the hole while he works with whatever that shit is. Those things can't get in there with us spraying them like a garden hose." The third responded to his companion.

Alright, let's get him up and to the lab." The second said. The first two hoisted Samuel onto their shoulders. Samuel's vision faded as they jogged him down the hallway. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the body those men were gnawing on. It was a girl, around her mid twenties. Her eyes were open, and she had a look of pure terror on her face. Samuel knew it wasn't Leslie, and he was hoping he would be wherever these men were taking him.

**Chapter 2**

Samuel jerked awake in a cold sweat. He panted, investigating his surroundings. The lights were nearly blinding, and his body ached. The room's color didn't help with the lighting. The white shade might have been inviting and clean, but it reflected the light, hurting Samuel's eyes much more than it should.

He got out of the bed. The cabinets and containers around him were marked with symbols he didn't understand. He checked his waist for a gun, and noticed nothing was there. He looked down, and noticed that he wasn't in his same clothing, but in a white garment. He saw a sink and mirror and headed to it.

He looked at himself and turned on the sink. He didn't know where he was, but he was still hoping that the events he experienced were just a terrible, terrible dream. He washed his face, repeating to himself that it was only a dream.

The door on the other side of the room opened, and a man with an object in his right hand appeared.

"Ah, you're awake, I see." The man said. Samuel recognized the man almost immediately.

"Doctor Richards? Doctor Hardwin Richards?" He asked.

"Yes, I am Hardwin Richards. I'm sure you have plenty of questions such as where you are and what happened, but I have a question for you first."

"Ask away, doctor." Samuel said. On any other day, he would have been smiling away and he would have been extremely excited. Sadly, his body was in an incredible amount of pain. The experience of meeting his idol wasn't as fantastic as it could have been.

"Why, in the name of everything, did you come here? I'm sure the slaughtered bodies all over the campus would have kept you away from here. Maybe you had seen the news and knew what had happened." The doctor walked up to Samuel, their eyes met. "What force drove you here?" he asked, grabbing Samuel's shoulders.

"I'm looking for a good friend of mine. She went missing last night during her…" he paused, "night job. My name's Samuel, by the way. Samuel Greene."

Hardwin knew exactly who he and his friend were. He looked distraught. He looked back into Samuel's eyes. Hardwin looked like he was going to deliver some news to Samuel, which would ultimately hurt him.

"I am extremely sorry…" he began. Samuel caught on to what he was about to say. Samuel started to tear up. "I might as well let the truth out: I killed her," he began.

Samuel turned around, nearly giving himself whiplash.

"What the fuck did you just say?" He asked Hardwin, giving him a sour look.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't exactly kill her. Let me explain the whole story. I am a biological engineer, and an incredible one at that. As you may have known, your friend Leslie was a prostitute, which is what I received from 'night job' that you mentioned.

"I received a sample of this virus from Europe. I experimented with the loose cells. I was satisfied with the results, as they weren't detailed enough. They didn't show what they did to the human. I knew what the symptoms of an infected human were, but I would have liked to see the effects first hand.

"I decided to randomize the virus' genetic code. I used a machine that I invented to do so. What I had turned the sample into was something terrible. After I picked up your friend, I drove back here, and told her that she would be my subject for the test. She didn't have a choice, really. After all, I am a very powerful individual.

"That is beside the point. After I injected her with that modified version of the virus, her skin tone started to shift colors. From normal to this… light red. Her visible blood vessels turned black, and she screamed in pain. She collapsed on the floor and writhed on the tiles. I ran out of the lab to grab my audio recorder, which I have now, and I was going to record what was happening.

"But, by the time I got the recorder, the screaming stopped, and I rushed back to the lab. When I got inside, she was nowhere to be seen, the only remains of her being a puddle of blood, and a hole in the ceiling, which I assumed she made, since the only exit was the decontamination chamber which led to the hallway. I would have noticed if she got out."

Samuel was furious. He needed a breather from all the information that had just settled in. He stared at the floor, with nothing but his thoughts. His idol had killed his best friend, and for what? Scientific pursuits? He instantly lost all respect for the man he called a genius. He didn't speak, he couldn't. His mind rushed with thoughts. They were violent, hateful, and involved the killing of this scientist.

"I understand you must be enraged with me at the moment, but I have a proposition for you." Hardwin's offer sounded interesting just by the tone in his voice.

Samuel looked up from the tiles and seriously considered Hardwin's offer.

"Alright," he began, "let's hear this little 'proposition' you have."

"Well, while most of the students were slaughtered and turned into… something… during the initial attack of your friend, I stayed here, and experimented more with this virus. One by one, students came here as a refuge. They're in the next room…" Hardwin stopped himself midsentence, "sorry, I'm losing my train of thought… Well, I experimented, and I think I have finally perfected what I wanted to achieve this whole time.

Samuel was confused. Usually, while following Hardwin's experiments in the newspaper, it would take him days or weeks to perfect a virus, even with a deadline.

"Hardwin…" Samuel started, "how long have I been out?

Hardwin paused for a moment. "About six days."

Samuel nearly collapsed. His stomach suddenly growled, alerting him of the immense pain that he was feeling. After all, he hasn't eaten in a few days. His mouth was dry.

"I don't mean to be rude, but one: fuck you. Two: can I have a meal, please?" Samuel said. He was angry, but he knew he needed to stay here until he was fed and until he regained his strength.

"I understand your anger for me at the moment, but are you still interested in my offer?" Hardwin asked him.

"Do I even have a choice? Or will you force me to receive your experimental serum, like you did with Leslie?" Samuel sneered.

"You do have a choice. But, this experiment will make you like them: you will be able to combat them, maybe even save her daughter."

Those words struck Samuel though the heart. He had cared for Carrie so much. What if she was dead? Or infected? He despised the thought.

"Alright, I'll do it," he said on an impulse, "But may I get some food first?"

"Absolutely, please, come this way." Hardwin instructed to go through the door he had entered. They walked down a short hall way and Hardwin opened up a door to a larger laboratory. There were around twenty students littering the floor in the back of the room, crying, mumbling prayers or attempting to comfort each other. On the opposite side of Hardwin's lab, there stood the three men that Samuel remembered. They rescued him from that creature.

They held their weapons, and aimed them at the hole in the ceiling. The shortest of the three turned to see what made a noise, and saw Hardwin with Samuel. He nudged the man to his right, and he turned to face the doctor. The third followed.

"Keep an eye on that hole, gentlemen. We don't want any unwanted guests." Hardwin shouted to them. They complied, and face the hole, aiming their guns at the creatures' vantage point.

"Wait here," Hardwin said to Samuel. Samuel stood still as Hardwin walked over to a cabinet. He crouched and opened it. He ruffled though plastic bags, until he found one all the way in the back. "Do you like Penne alla Vodka?" he asked.

"Sure." Samuel replied, looking at all the expensive machinery around the lab. Hardwin stood back up and walked over to a burner in the middle of the room, next to a vial of a light blue substance.

He lighted the burner, and set a small pot on top of it. He reached into a mini fridge next to him and pulled out a water bottle, emptying its contents into the pot.

Once Hardwin had started cooking Samuel's meal, he called a random student over to cook in his place. The student agreed and stirred the pot.

"Now, let me explain what we will be doing. It will be a while until the penne is done, so we might as well get you settled in with this serum. We'll take you back to the room you woke up in, and strap you to a chair or something. We will inject you with the same amount I used on Leslie, and see what course will be taken."

Samuel knew what he was getting into, but he wasn't very keen of the idea. Hardwin grabbed the vial next to the burner, picked up a syringe, and headed back to the door they entered though, urging Samuel to do the same.

When they got into the other room, Samuel helped the old scientist move a nearby chair to the center of the room. Hardwin grabbed straps from a nearby cabinet.

"Sit down, please." He told Samuel. The veteran did as instructed, and he was soon pinned down to the uncomfortable metal chair. "I'll be right back, let me get one of those men to help me with this." With that, Hardwin hurried out of the room. Samuel was alone, the thoughts rushing through his head again as a clock clicked away seconds.

Hardwin came back a few minutes later with a large adult, most likely a student.

"Samuel, this is Rick. He will help us with this, so we don't have any accidents." Samuel was curious as to why he would need an 'assistant,' but that currently was currently irrelevant. The properties of the virus he was about to be injected with was more of an immediate threat.

"What exactly will this virus do?" Samuel asked.

Now that Hardwin couldn't be attacked by Samuel, he thought it was best to let the truth out. "I'm not sure at all." He said.

This infuriated Samuel yet again. The more he stayed in the presence of his once favorite human being, the more he learned how much of a deceiver and liar he really was. Samuel struggled at the restraints, trying to break free from their synthetic grasp, but to no prevail.

Hardwin extracted some of the blue substance from the canister. It had a glow to it. Samuel struggled harder and harder, but the effort to break free was impossible for a man of his strength.

"Relax; it'll only be a little, pinch. Rick, please set up a heart rate monitor on our friend here." Hardwin said. Rick did as instructed, and gazed around the room for a monitor. Eventually, the man found one, and struggled to set it up. He clearly wasn't a very bright individual, so Hardwin assisted him at setting up the machine.

Once they finally got it, the doctor prepared the spot to inject Samuel, which was in his right bicep. The heart rate monitor was at a steady seventy eight beats per second, but with the syringe approaching his arm, it increased. Samuel always hated needles.

Hardwin injected him with it, and took out his audio recorder. The skin around the injection site turned red, as they did with the first victim of Hardwin's unethical procedures.

"Viral modification number twelve, test one. The subject is one Samuel Greene. He was willing to be injected, but now he has been against it."

Samuel started to grunt in pain. He started pulling at the restraints again. Rick started to walk over to subdue him, but was stopped by a hand wave from Hardwin.

"The subject is appearing to experience the same symptoms of an earlier infected, Leslie Howittz." While he spoke into the audio recorder, Hardwin examined every later part of Samuel's body. "The infection isn't spreading as quickly as Leslie's. That must be due to the modification."

Suddenly, Samuel's veins in his injected arm started to glow a faint white color. Hardwin stared at the color change. To make sure he wasn't hallucinating, he asked Rick to confirm his suspicions. He did, and Hardwin recorded the new finding.

Samuel's body slowly grew into the same light red color that Leslie's did. The color of the blood vessels might have changed, but the excruciating pain was still there. Samuel screamed in immense pain as the infection spread to his torso, then to his other arm, and finally to his abdomen and legs. The garment made it easy for Hardwin to examine every last change.

When most of Samuel's skin was a light red and every visible blood vessel a faint white, the virus proceeded to infect his head. The arteries in his neck shone, and the infection finally covered every inch of skin left. His eyes were shut tight. He yelled and screamed in pain as his body was morphed on a microscopic level.

The heart rate monitor was displaying rates of which surpassed the rate of a heart attack, as Samuel growled in pain and foamed at the mouth. He struggled and fought back against the restraints. Hardwin was too amazed to speak. Rick had covered his ears so he wouldn't become any more frightened by Samuel's ear piercing screams.

The white glow under Samuel's skin started to fade as his skin returned to its normal color. The screams died down, and he had passed out.

"Well, it appears as if Samuel has passed out, most likely from immense pain of the procedure." Hardwin said. Rick uncovered his ears.

Samuel's heart rate was still incredibly high, an inhuman rate of two-hundred and fifty three. Hardwin stared at Samuel's chest rise and fall quickly.

Hardwin thought all was well as the subject's heart rate had started to decrease slowly and steadily. Hardwin was unprepared for what happened next, as Samuel flat lined. The droning, monotone blare rang throughout Hardwin's eardrums; his own heart beat picking up in fear.

**Chapter 3**

"No, no, no, no, no!" Hardwin yelled at the flat line. "This isn't supposed to happen!" he yelled at the inanimate object, shaking it violently in place.

Samuel's chest ceased to rise and fall. His head was down and blood trickled out of his nose and mouth. Hardwin was getting more worried by the second. This wasn't good for his testing, and another life taken by Hardwin wasn't easy on his conscience.

Hardwin broke down. He yelled, screamed, and trashed the room. He threw expensive, irreplaceable machinery like they were a child's play toy. He didn't care about the long term effects. He was too occupied on his genetic mistake.

Hardwin cursed, walking around the room. He was clearly enraged. Rick had to leave the room in order to prevent his simple minded intelligence to become overwhelmed.

_Beep_

Hardwin looked at the monitor like a deer in headlights.

_ Beep… beep._

Hardwin was astounded at this. The man had died, and came back to life, without any form of help. What if he was one of them? What if he had a bloodlust?

Samuel's chest rose slightly. The sounds of labored breathing echoed the room in between the beeps from the heart rate monitor. The trickling of blood from his mouth had stopped, yet a drop fell onto the garment every few seconds.

Samuel slowly raised his head. He moaned in pain, and looked around the room. He couldn't keep his eyes open. The lights overhead were blinding him, yet again.

"Hardwin?" He asked, unable to see his surroundings.

"Yes, Samuel, I'm here." He alerted Samuel to his presence.

"You're an asshole." He said. The heart rate monitor started to pick up, and he budged at the restraints. He still couldn't get out of them. Samuel raised his head and looked back at his lap, which was blood stained. He looked at his arms, which seemed to pulsate with each heart beat, as did his legs.

Samuel hadn't felt this great in years. He was also feeling very violent.

"Get me out of this chair," he commanded Hardwin in a serious tone "Now."

"I'd like to run a few more tests first before I let—"

"Fuck that." Samuel yelled. He bided a large amount of energy, hoping it would break the restraints. He pushed against them again. This time, instead of holding him into the chair, they snapped, a clean cut. He felt fantastic. He stood out of the chair, and took in a deep breath. He walked over to the mirror to examine how he looked.

He was startled at what he saw. His facial features hadn't changed, but his irises…

They were glowing! They were a glowing green. He didn't know what it meant, but it was something new, which caught his attention.

"Hardwin," he called, "what in the name of God is this?" Samuel asked, pointing at one of his eyes.

"What is what?" Hardwin asked. He walked over to Samuel, unknowing of what else had happened.

Hardwin looked into Samuel's green, faintly glowing eyes, his mouth agape.

"What could have caused that?" Hardwin asked himself. "Could it have been something in your body that altered your eyes?" He then asked Samuel.

"How the fuck should I know?! You're the damned biological engineer, aren't you?!" Samuel roared with such fury. His eyes shifted to a red hue.

Hardwin was speechless, "Samuel… look at your eyes…"

"What about them?! How they are fucking gre—"

He stopped midway through his sentence when he turned and saw his eyes had changed color yet again. They then shifted from the red hue to a blue.

"Your eyes change color… Is it a random change? Or do they change on a certain variable…" Hardwin asked himself.

"Maybe they are based on my heart rate? Or thoughts?" His eyes changed to a light yellow hue.

The answer came to Hardwin in seconds, "Your mood! That's it!" The answer made sense to the doctor, but not to his patient.

"How so? How could that had happened?" Samuel asked.

"I'm not sure. During your infection, the virus stopped spreading at the neck, and when the rest of your body was infected, your head was next. It infected the head last, which means that maybe something the virus did to alter your brain altered the way you show emotions. I'm not sure if that is the answer, but it's a good start." Hardwin said.

"Do you think I'm like… them?" Samuel asked.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like, will I try to maul people? Will I have a lust for blood?"

"Well, the infection spread through Leslie in mere seconds, maybe half a minute. The virus went through her head quickly, focusing on the rest of the body. Your mutation throughout your body went quickly, but focused more on your mind. I'm thinking when the virus infected her it erased her psyche, turning her into a primal monster. Then again, I'm not very sure what happened…"

Samuel's stomach growled yet again.

"I see all of your bodily functions are still active. That's a good sign that you aren't one of them, I suppose." Hardwin said. "Also, you know of the creatures' increased speed and strength, correct?"

Samuel knew he had come into contact with two of them, while one practically killed him with little to no effort.

"Yes, I know what they are capable of. They are fast, and one upper cutted me, sending my flying. He then caught me mid air and threw me to the ground. That was before your team came and rescued me.

"You mean the men with the guns guarding that hole in the ceiling? Yeah, they're pretty handy, aren't they? They were one of the first people to come to the lab, after they were sent in to retrieve survivors. They were told to take any out, but when the men near the entrance were slaughters, they stayed here. We've set up a refuge here so we can get survivors to a safer area."

"Do you know of any?" Samuel asked.

"We tore a CB radio out of a SWAT truck. We have only found one group. They're held up in the high school downtown." Hardwin said as he headed to the door. He urged Samuel to follow. "We won't be able to hold off this area any longer. We are beginning to think these things can communicate with each other. They see… coordinated.

"These people need to get out of here. They need to get to a safer refuge. I was thinking just before, with your new powers, that you could escort them there."

I don't even know what that injection did to me!" Samuel shouted at Hardwin. "Maybe it made me weaker! Did that ever cross your mind?"

They walked into the main laboratory. Rick was cowering in a corner, in the fetal position. He was obviously scarred from this whole epidemic. Rick stared at Samuel like he saw a ghost. Everyone ended up staring at Samuel and his glowing blue eyes.

Samuel glanced at all of the sets of eyes locked on his. They looked at his pulsating limbs. He seemed much taller to them than before.

His meal from before had long been done, and he needed some food. Samuel walked quickly over to it, and quickly ate the meal meant for two.

"Well then," Hardwin said. "Alright everyone!" he called to the crowd. "Our good friend Samuel here," he pointed to his subject, who simply waved as he gorged on his meal. "We are getting you out of here, to a safer area: the high school downtown."

The crowd seemed relieved. They sighed and cheered softly.

"Now what we are going to do it gather all out belongings, head to the SWAT trucks outside in the parking lot, and head to that refuge to see if they will let us enter.

"Samuel Greene, who I injected with the virus you have seen me working on during your stay here, is practically like the infected," the crowd cowered, two of the men pointed their guns at Samuel as he was throwing away the bag.

"Relax; he isn't like them though, when it comes to his mentality. He isn't animalistic. He has a sense of reason. He won't be attacking you, and he is sure to be an asset to your escape."

His wording sounded odd.

"You aren't coming?" Samuel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No." he said flatly. Tears started forming at his eyes. "I need to stay with the lab, and purge it. The entire campus is flooded with those infected men and women, I need to ignite the lab and clear the original source of this infectious disease."

"Hardwin, you can't do this…" Samuel told him.

"Yes I can, I need to, for the good of humanity." His voice was breaking. He walked over to a console near the back of the room. He pressed the button, which opened up both the doors to the decontamination chamber, and killed the lights. Dim, red ones replaced them.

"Ignition in three minutes." A monotone voice said. A countdown timer began counting down from three minutes on the giant digital clock on the wall.

"You better hurry." Hardwin said, tears rolling down his face. "I don't want you to end up dying with me."

The room panicked, the students were in horror, the three gunmen trying to keep them calm.

"You better get them out of here," Hardwin told Samuel. "End the apocalypse I started, last time I checked, I think this entire thing spread over the entire country. Just make sure these people get out safe, and that you stop this thing. Find a cure, do something! Prevent your own feralization."

Hardwin walked over to a storage crate, and opened it with a key. He took out a pair of pants and a coat and tossed them to Samuel. He quickly put them on, and Hardwin threw him the submachine gun he had before he was attacked and handed him his audio recorder.

"Please, keep them safe," Hardwin begged.

"Two minutes remaining." The monotone voice taunted the students hurrying out of the lab.

Samuel hugged Hardwin tightly. Once they let go, Samuel nodded and took down the hall at a slightly abnormal speed, catching up to the group of students and guards as they pushed their way through.

Hardwin pulled out a chair, and sat down. He did nothing but listen to each second tick down until every molecule of air was lit ablaze.

"I wonder he will find his true meaning," Hardwin said.

"One minute remaining until purge."

"He doesn't know who he is yet, but he will soon."

The air pipes started to shake and burst.

"He will meet the others soon, and they will help him, hopefully. He has the skills they lack; he lacks the skills they have." He whispered to himself. Seconds passed as Hardwin's life neared its end.

"Thirty seconds remaining."

Samuel and the group raced through the courtyard, the faint echo of the timer urging them to go faster. Once they cut through, they piled everyone into two of the SWAT trucks. Being police, the drivers started the cars without the fingerprint scanner rejecting them. With around twelve in each car, including the driver and passenger, they had just enough room to get every student out.

Hardwin sighed loudly. He didn't want to die, but he though he must have paid for what he has done to the country. He has killed people, turning them into abominations against their will.

"Ten…"

Was he ready?

"Nine… Eight… Seven…"

He wasn't exactly sure. He knew this had to happen, but was it supposed to happen this way?

"Six… Five… Four…"

He closed his eyes. He whispered to himself.

"Three… Two… One."

Certain ignitions within the facility's air ducts lit the air, setting the entire building ablaze. Hardwin didn't feel a thing. The building simply collapsed on top of itself, Samuel looked at the smoke rising over the roof tops as he sat in the passenger seat of the truck, the university slowly disappearing behind larger buildings. He didn't focus on his surroundings, only on the smoke. He knew that Hardwin and his presence had changed the course of the whole epidemic.

He was gone, years of scientific research and intelligence was lost. Samuel then remembered the audio recorder. He took it out of his pocket and looked at it. Everything Hardwin had ever documented was on that device.

When he looked up and back to the schools, he noticed that other buildings had started to collapse as well, in fiery explosions that shook the highway they were on.

He could see dark silhouettes of people jumping out of the buildings. He knew they weren't humans, because they wouldn't have survived a three story drop without breaking their legs.

The sun was setting, the drivers of both trucks switched he headlights of the trucks on, and Samuel guessed that it was around six in the afternoon since it was around late November.

Samuel started to doze off when the trucks got onto the old freeway. He leaned his head against the window and stared at the empty, blood stained cars. With each car that passed, the more he thought of how pointless it was trying to escape and survive from these monsters.

His eyelids fell heavy, and he eventually passed out.

**Chapter 4**

The driver of the truck Samuel was in shook the dozed off passenger awake.

"We hit a roadblock, just thought I should tell you." He said in a scruffy voice.

It was dusk, there was a roadblock consisted of cars, park benches, and everything else in between. Who ever built it surely didn't want anything getting in, human or not.

Samuel stretched and got out of the car. The other two gunmen stood in front of the barricade. Looking down at a map, they used a cell phone for light.

The driver told the students to stay in the truck, to which they quickly agreed. Samuel and the third gunmen walked to the other two men, and Samuel was the first to speak, his eyes shone a light brown.

"Where are we? How far from the school are we?" He asked in a tired voice.

"We're about a few blocks from the school. We have this roadblock here, clearly, so we aren't going anywhere." The first one said.

"We can't get the trucks past it." The second said.

"How about I go over to the school, and you guys watch over the kids, make sure they aren't killed while I gain permission from whoever is there to let us in." Samuel considered.

"That's a good idea. Are you sure you are in the physical condition to do that?" the first man asked.

"I'm not at my peak, but I feel much better than earlier." Samuel said. "I'll head over now. Keep those men and women safe."

The barricade, being roughly Samuel's height, looked unsurpassable, since it was also built onto the surrounding grass, and the trucks weren't built for offroading and their tires would have popped under all of the stress.

Samuel remembered how Hardwin said he was like those people. Since they could tear people apart effortlessly and jump three stories, he thought of doing himself. He prepared himself, and jumped. He barely made it, landing on the edge and nearly falling off. He steadied himself, and looked back to the gunmen.

"I'll be back soon, and I'll have word." Samuel jumped down to the other side of the barricade and readied his submachine gun. He was still energized from the jump. His breathing was heavy and his heart raced. He kept his eyes peeled to every crevice of the road. He didn't want anything attacking him, leaping from the two story brick houses around him.

He looked over his shoulder occasionally and the only sound throughout his journey to the high school was the sound of strong wind and the buzzing of the street lights, which flickered slowly. The sun had now set, and the moon rose up slowly.

Samuel walked around the corner, and at the end of the block stood the school. He chuckled in relief. He started to jog to the school, making sure not to make a large amount of noise so he wouldn't be attacked. From what he could see, the school was very old. He supposed it to be from the fifties, maybe earlier. He was relieved at how convenient the base was; it would serve as excellent protection from the monstrosities roaming the streets.

Meanwhile, on the second story balcony of the school, a man noticed a man running quickly towards the school. He moved faster than a normal human. This gave him the incentive that he was infected. He aimed won the scope of his Barrett and aimed in on the thing's face. On further inspection, he noticed the man's eyes had glowed a bluish hue. His heart beat increased, and he was getting nervous and shaky. His accuracy while aiming decreased and he took the chance, and shot at the man.

Samuel heard a loud explosion from in front of him, and he felt immense pain in his right shoulder. He spun around from the massive object hitting his shoulder. Landing on his stomach, he groaned in pain as he recollected himself.

Being shot multiple times while in the army, he knew he was shot, but he though the caliber was smaller than the ones from the war.

He checked his shoulder for any bullet holes. He had none, except for a little mark, which bled only a tiny bit.

"What the fuck?!" He yelled to his unknown shooter. He got up, and noticed the giant metal cone that was fired at him. He knelt down and picked it up, examining it. It was a fifty caliber, about as big as his thumb. It should have killed him, not just bounced off, leaving a tiny mark.

His eyes turned red and he looked at the school.

"I am not infected, you dunce!" He yelled at whoever shot at him. "I have civilians in these two trucks down the road! I need to know if we can set up camp and use your school as a refuge!"

He got no response. He headed towards the school again, when another bullet was shot, this time missing and piercing the asphalt to his right. Samuel stepped to the left, looking down at where the bullet impacted.

"Stop shooting at me, you asshole!" He shouted. He took out his submachine gun and shot a few bullets into the air. A man shouted from inside the school.

"Dale? DALE!" the man yelled. He was clearly angry at the sniper, and from the way he sounded, this wasn't the sniper's first offense.

"I'm sorry, Trevor! B-b-but there's this man out there that wants to come in. He says he has more people a few blocks down." The shooter said in a Southern accent.

The man looked out to the front yard of the school.

"Hey! Mystery asshole! What makes you think you're allowed in here?! Are you the one with the machine gun? Yeah, you just shot your fucking gun! You aren't coming anywhere near here again! Come back and ill decorate the sidewalk with pieces of your brain!" The man yelled to him.

Samuel, now hiding behind the statue in the front yard of the school, was agitated by the way he was being treated.

"Your shithead shot at me first!" He yelled, "All I want is for the twenty or so people I have with me to set up with you, I heard there was a refuge in this school. Now will you let us in or not?!"

"Fucking Dale! What did I tell you about shooting at people who aren't infected! Maybe they could help us!" The man yelled at the sniper. The sniper was very afraid of this man. The man must have been the 'boss' of this refuge.

"He was running really quick, and when I aimed at him, his eyes were glowing…" Dale squeaked.

"What the fuck…" Trevor said. He reached for something inside a box on the balcony. It was an assault rifle, which was already loaded. He pulled back the hammer, and fired a few rounds at the statue to inform the stranger that they meant business. "Don't you even think about tricking us, you crazy fuck! I know what you are, and I will end you!"

Samuel had enough threats from people on the street before the epidemic, this man didn't scare him.

"My name is Samuel Greene! I am not infected, and I just need a place to stay for a while until we can find a proper means of escape!"

Trevor thought of what he should do. He wasn't the best at making choices. "Alright, get your guys and bring them down here, but go around the right side, we'll instruct the guards in the room all the way to the right to unbarricade the set of white, double doors. And how did you get past the barricade we set up?"

"I jumped over it!" He said. With that, Samuel thanked the man and ran back down the street towards the convoy that held the devastated students. Once he got the barricade, the jumped over it again, this time going over it by a few inches. He landed unsteadily, and nearly fell over.

He looked into the window of the truck, its headlights shone over his body. He looked at the drivers, who had a little shock from Samuel's arrival. He stood up straight and gave a thumbs up to the two gunmen, who high-fived each other as they celebrated.

The gunmen stepped out and headed to the back of the truck. They opened the doors and told the men and women to wait by the barricade for further instructions. They did so, and stretched their arms and legs.

Meanwhile, Samuel walked to the other truck and signaled for its driver to come out. He nodded and followed Samuel to the back and let the students out. They asked if they were allowed to stay at the school. Samuel confirmed their thoughts and told them to wait at the barricade.

The three gunmen and Samuel met in between the first and second truck.

"How are we going to get all of those guys over the barricade? It's higher than they can jump. When you scaled it, you nearly fell off." The first man said.

"Listen, Paul, Samuel must know what he is doing. Right? Do you?" the second man asked staring at the glowing eyed man.

"… Let me think…" Samuel said. He paused for a minute while he looked at the barricade. He thought of every possible solution: helping them scale over, going around it, finding another way. All of those would take too long and they might need the trucks for later use.

"I got it," he said. Samuel then walked over to the barricade. He motioned for the students to move out of the way. He forced the truck back a few feet so he had some room to perform his idea. He stood sideways, and clenched his fists. He wailed his fist at the barricade, leaving a huge indent in the sheet metal.

Samuel recoiled, shaking his hand trying to wade away the pain. After the pain subsided, he punched the indent again with his other fist. The students and gunmen stared at him as he laid out a barrage of punches at the wall.

After around ten seconds of this frenzy, he threw one last, powerful punch, which left a hole in the barricade. The hole was fairly large and appeared big enough for the trucks to pass by. It was a clear road from there to the school.

"Alright, everyone!" Samuel shouted to the group of tired students. "Get back in the trucks; we'll be there in minutes."

They all followed their super human protector's wishes and climbed into the trucks. The gunmen got into the same trucks as they did the first time, and started for the school.

The trucks barely made it, as they scratched the sharp sheet metal. The sides of the van were screeched with the painful sound of metal on metal, which scared the students. Even for college kids, this whole epidemic must have destroyed them.

It was moments before the trucks arrived at the school. Trevor was standing on the balcony, and signaled the trucks to take an immediate right, around the side of the school. When they did, he rushed into the building, possibly alerting the refuge of their arrival.

The trucks stopped in front of a set of open double doors, guarded by a set of heavily armed men. The drivers got out, and opened the doors, signaling for the students to hurry into the school. The doormen hurried them in. The three gunmen from the university rushed in with Samuel, and before the doormen closed the doors, they scanned the area, closing it only when they thought the area was clear.

The doormen started to re-barricade the double doors. They wrapped a thick set of chains around the handles, and then proceeded to line it with desks and tables. The doormen took desk out of two adjacent classrooms, which had windows lined with thick wooden bars. Most other classrooms were boarded up, and the hallway was lined with sleeping people.

They all looked terrible. Their expressions showed nothing but sadness and fear. They thought they were hopeless. They could be right.

"Ah! Samuel!" a voice called to him from down the hall. It was Trevor, who extended his arms to greet him. He was about Samuel's height. He had blonde hair and didn't appear athletic. He had light brown eyes and a small scar on his left cheek. His face was a bit chubby and he had bags under his eyes. "I see you weren't bullshitting me about the group of people. They seem worse than our own. I'm Trevor Blaine." He stuck his hand out, greeting Samuel.

The agitated and tired man ignored it. "They've seen some shit." Samuel said in a serious tone. His eyes were a very pale yellow. "They were held up in a science lab with this deranged fucker, who injected me with some weird shit. Turned me into one of them, only I won't hurt you or your people." He thought it would be best to get that out of the way.

"Understandable, your people need a place to stay until help arrives. It just so happens we need some help too." Trevor said. Samuel looked at him and gave him a look. Samuel had enough happen to him, he didn't need to give any more favors.

He sighed. "What do you need?" He asked in a tired tone.

"Just an extra hand around the place: gathering food, other resources, patrolling the area in case any infected try to jump us." Trevor said to him, "Let me show you to our base of operations."

They walked down the hallway lined with people, and went into a large lobby, with stairs leading to a second story, most likely the balcony, and there was about thirty or forty people packed into the center, the windows of the lobby and second story boarded up and barricaded with lunch tables or other heavy objects. Samuel knew they wouldn't hold back the sheer force of the infected.

The lobby led to two other hallways: the one Samuel and Trevor had walked out of, and another that was opposite it. The three double doors that led to the other part of the school were boarded up and barricaded like the windows.

"Our operating base is down that hallway," Trevor pointed to the other accessible hallway. "We used a janitorial closet – and a big one at that – to make it. We have a small armory, CB radio, and maps of certain parts of the city stored there. We also have a doorway leading out of the room to the other side of the school, which is where a cold war era fallout shelter resides for our back up shelter."

Overall, they had a nice setup, and Samuel, impressed already by how armed and organized everyone was, was stunned by how well their base of operations was. He gazed as the makeshift gun rakes and maps pinned to the wall. Adult men cleaned guns, examined maps and drew routes of some kind, and a few stood around the CB radio. The room was bustling and noisy from the men discussing escape routes and supply stores. Samuel counted how many there were. He reached nineteen.

"Gentlemen," Trevor said; the entire room fell silent. "We have a new man in our midst, along with three new gunmen, and twenty students from the city's university. His name is Samuel Greene, and I'm sure everyone might be wondering about his eyes. The entirety of the room shifted their heads in a seemingly coordinated fashion at Samuel. His eyes were now orange, as he was feeling nervous around the large group of armed individuals.

"Well, I'll just get it out now: I'm infected, bu—. " Samuel tried to explain himself to the group, but they shouted threats and other insults to him and they drew their firearms. Samuel did so in retaliation, yet his was only a bluff, since he had no ammunition left.

A large man parted the crowd of armed men, and stood in front. He had a hunting shotgun and makeshift ammunition bandoliers around his chest. He had jet black hair, and he looked very tired. The whole situation made them all very tired. He sported a stained white t-shirt and dark blue jeans, topped off with beige work boots.

"Why shouldn't a turn you into hamburger meat right now, you fuck?" the large man asked in a thick Boston accent. "I'll grind your fucking flesh to make myself a nice meal."

Samuel was surprised by how this man greeted him. "Nice to meet you, too?" He said casually, "Is there any reason why you look like a massive douche bag?" Samuel asked him.

"Who do you think you speaking to, maggot?" the man bellowed, "I'll put a hole in your head and wear your skull as a necklace!"

Samuel looked at the man through squinted eyes. Why was this man being so aggressive? Then it hit him: why would anyone want to be anywhere near someone that is infected?

"Do it, tough guy." Samuel shoved Trevor lightly to the side, and allowed a clear shot to him. He extended his arms. "Put a round in me, see what happens."

"Tony, don't—." Trevor tried to stop him before the large man did anything stupid.

He was too late. The man fired a spread shot at Samuel, the flak hit mainly in his stomach. The shards pierced his skin only a little, and fell to the floor. Samuel flinched and then looked back at the large man.

Samuel's eyes had long been red due to his increasing anger towards the large man that threw empty threats at him. He wasn't afraid of the man. He was more of a bother.

Samuel began to walk towards him, in slow, menacing strides. The man loaded another shell into the chamber, and nearly shot it, until a few men held Samuel back, and Trevor jumped in front of him, with an angry look on his face

"Tony! Quit the shit! Now!" Trevor yelled to the shot gunner. "He's here to help us! Hear him out!"

Tony lowered his shotgun and stared at Samuel cautiously. The man with the glowing eyes stood near the door, leaning against the frame and staring angrily at him.

"Alright, stranger. Let's hear what you have to say." Tony was reluctant to agree with Trevor, but the entire refuge looked up to the man, so he had to respect him.

"Well, do we know when evacuation is arriving?" Samuel received silence in return. No one knew when or if help would arrive. He stood up straight and began towards the table with the maps on it. "Alright, well, then we will need to have a plan. I suppose we will be here for a while, so let's have a backup plan."

"We already do: the fallout shelter out these doors," Trevor said to Samuel, pointing at a barricaded set of double doors.

"Good, good. Do we have supplies? Food? We clearly have enough ammunition to hold off an army. But we won't get anywhere without food and water."

"The sinks are still running, but we aren't sure if the water is safe enough to drink." A man near the back said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a second." Tony interrupted. "Trevor told us that you were only staying for a few days. What's this 'we' stuff you keep blabbering about?"

"We aren't staying for a few days. I assumed that help would arrive, and since clearly no one knows if it is, then I guess we will be staying here with you," Samuel informed Tony. The Boston native wasn't too happy about hearing this.

"Now, where do we stand on food rations?" Samuel asked.

"We have enough for everyone to have a few days worth of meals." Trevor said.

"Where is it?"

"In a trunk in the main lobby. We have it locked with a key that I carry around with me."

"What types of foods are there? Non-perishables?"

"Mostly, they were taken from the cafeteria the second day of the outbreak."

"We're going to need more…" Samuel looked at the maps pinned to the other side of the room on the wall. "What areas do _these_ maps show?"

"Mainly the area surrounding the school. We couldn't find a map of the whole city." Trevor said.

Samuel walked over to the maps. The men in the room stayed quiet as they watched what he did.

"These markings," he said as he slid his index finger along red marker streaks, "what do they indicate?"

"Road blocks, infected hotspots, survivor posts that we've had contact with." Trevor walked over to the CB radio. "We haven't had contact with them in a few days. We should try to signal them again," he said to the group in general.

"We need to focus on _our_ building at the moment. Once we have enough supplies and firepower to hold off against raids from those things, we can then help others.

"We should plan on finding supplies in the morning. We will need to get out early, before noon. We then scavenge for a few hours and try to find nonperishables and guns, maybe blades if we have enough people. By the way, anyone have the time?" Samuel asked.

"Yeah, it's about a quarter after seven." One man said.

"Are you sure, Louis? Mine says six thirty." Another man brought up.

"I have six thirty as well," Trevor said.

"Alright, whatever. It's six thirty I suppose. Now, what do we have as a means of local food and gun stores?" Samuel asked.

"There's a small market down the road a ways, followed by a sporting goods store not too far from it." The sniper, Dale, said as he walked in the room.

"Dale, why aren't you on the balcony?" Trevor asked with a sour look.

"I wanted to help with the scavenging…" he said weakly.

"How long have you been out there, Dale?" Trevor asked him, sighing.

"Since you first walked in before…" Dale said again weakly.

"Fuckin' Dale… Get back to the balcony!" Trevor screamed at him.

"S-sorry, Trevor!" he stuttered. Dale sulked away.

"Wait, Dale!" Trevor called him back. He thought the boss would have apologized, but instead he heard something that he didn't want to hear. "Give me that fucking rifle; you're done with guard duty."

Dale looked like he was about to cry. He shuffled over to Trevor and handed him the large caliber rifle. He snatched it from his hands quickly, and stormed back into the room. He slammed the door in Dale's face.

"What the hell was that for, Trevor?" Samuel asked angrily at the leader. His eyes flamed red. "He was just trying to help!" he defended the sniper.

"He doesn't know anything! Are you kidding me right now, Sam?! He is as smart as a brick! No, wait, scratch that, a brick is _smarter_ than him!" Trevor yelled back

"Well maybe if you gave him some fucking positive encouragement, he wouldn't be such a little pussy!" Samuel finished his argument and stormed off outside to the balcony.

"Nice going, Trevor." Louis said.

"Fuck off, Louis! Don't even get me started on how fucking idiotic you are! 'Oh, big bro, help me after I made your life hell throughout childhood.' No! Fuck you! Y'know, I should've left you when you came to my house. You're more of a liability than anything!" Trevor then proceeded to storm out of the room to the lobby.

Louis and the rest of the group looked at each other and then back at the door. They wondered why the group was so dysfunctional. Then, Samuel and Dale yelled for everyone to 'get ready' for something.

Samuel walked over up the stairs to the balcony, while Trevor and another man were in a verbal argument. Dale was sitting on a plastic lawn chair, giving the thousand yard stare to the dark city. Samuel leaned against the door frame

"Hey," Samuel said, "you alright?" Dale turned around, startled from his sudden arrival.

"Y-yeah." He stuttered. It was obvious Samuel's glowing eyes drove fear into Dale's cowardly person.

Samuel chuckled. "No need to be afraid, Dale. I'm not going to hurt you." He assured Dale.

"I don't suppose you will. I'm just a very timid person."

"That I can see, friend." Samuel walked over next to Dale and sat on the concrete. "Why do you let him boss you around like that? He should have a little more respect for you since of this whole epidemic. Whenever someone treats you like that, just show them they aren't any more important than you. Don't let them step all over you."

"Well, I'm not the smartest man, I am not very educated. I have a bit of a disability, too: when I'm even the tiniest bit nervous, I start to stutter. Badly. I came up from South Carolina and I was visiting my aunt who came up here for the summer. She didn't come back in September so I took a plane up to see her to make sure she was alright. She was in jail for public drunkenness. And thanks for the advice."

"You're welcome. But wow, that's one hell of a story." Samuel said. "My wife kicked me out of our apartment after our first kid was born. I was in the war back in the early twenties. I developed some weird mental disorder from it. I got discharged with a section eight."

"What's that?" Dale asked. His attention was in an unbreakable grip by Samuel's passed.

"A section Eight is when a soldier is kicked out of the army for something psychologically. Like if a man hallucinated or had schizophrenia."

"Oh." Dale said weakly.

In the pitch black streets, low screeches and shuffling could be heard. Dale and Samuel looked out. They couldn't see anything, but they know that there was _something_ out there.

"Dale, get inside. Now." Samuel commanded the southerner. Dale immediately bolted inside. He shouted at every one to get ready, Samuel did the same. Trevor looked up at the balcony.

"What is it _now_, Dale? The wind got you spooked?" He spoke too soon. A loud bang came out of the boards near the main entrance of the lobby. Then another, and another.

"Oh, shit…" Trevor swore under his breath. "Guys!" He yelled to the men in the operating base. "Get your asses out here, quick!" Trevor drew a fairly large pistol, which looked like a Desert Eagle to Samuel, who knew a thing or two about pre-war guns.

The men were already on their way. They were locked, loaded, and ready to defend their home. They lined up alongside Trevor, pushing the now awake and scared civilians away to the back of the lobby.

"Here," Samuel said to Dale, handing him his submachine gun. "I won't need it right now. Get those doors shut."

Dale turned around and shut the doors, locking them in an effort to prevent the super human abominations from breaching the school.

"Everyone get ready!" Trevor screamed. Dale rushed down to help the front.

Meanwhile, Samuel felt uneasy. He started to sweat. His vision blurred. He felt so… angry. The last time he felt like this, he was talking to Hardwin about Leslie. He felt like he needed to kill something.

His head started to suddenly pulsate with an immense amount of pain, more so than when he was injected. He screamed loudly. He felt like he was being overcome by an evil unlike any other. He felt the need to slaughter.

The doors burst open. The infected crawled in a small amount. That wasn't too much for Samuel. He let out a bellowing roar that made the infected and humans stare in both awe and fear. The infected roared, marking him as a threat.

Samuel's eyes had changed to a crimson red. White streaks crawled up his neck and branched off from his eyes. He grinned, with the look of both a psychopath and masochist.

He leaped from the second story onto an infected. The infected face down, Samuel proceeded to send blow upon blow to its reinforced cranium, eventually shattering it with a sixth, final powerful strike.

The infected were being held off by the gun fire from the men. Small clouds of a red mist escaped their bullet wounds and mouths.

Louis immediately noticed. "Hey, what the hell is coming out of their wounds after they die?!" He yelled to anyone able to hear him over the roaring, gunfire, and death shrieks.

No one knew. Samuel punched, ripped, and threw his way through the small squad of infected. One by one, their numbers dropped. Samuel had polished off most of them, and the refugee shooters lending added support.

The attack of the infected was over. Samuel stood in the small garden in the front of the school, his body doused with fresh blood as he breathed heavily. He was satisfied of what he had done.

His anger subsided after the threat of the infected was gone. Another wave of pain surged through Samuel's body like an electric shock. He roared in pain. The white glow in his arms and neck died down, and his eyes turned back to their blue glow. He felt really weak. He fell to his knees. The group, their guns raised, carefully walked over to Samuel.

"Hey, Sam, you alright?" Trevor asked, aiming his pistol at the back of the knelt man's head.

Samuel coughed. "Yeah, I don't know what came over me. I just felt so… angry." He told the group. He stood up, uneasily. He turned around and headed to the front door. "I'm going to go sleep; you guys should probably repair this door." He limped back inside, the lights illuminating his blood stained clothing. The women and children stared at him in horror as Samuel walked up the stairs, leaned against the wall on the second story and slid down to the floor.

As Trevor, Dale, and the rest of the group watch Samuel walk uneasily back to the refuge, Louis became suspicious of their new guest.

"Group meeting. We need to discuss that...thing… now." Louis said. Most of the group agreed, they all said Samuel should go, and that he's a danger to the entire refuge. Trevor and Dale were against it.

"He mowed through those infected like crazy! Also notice how he didn't try to attack us! He thought of a plan for us to survive for Christ's sake!" Trevor yelled at the group.

"Yeah, and he isn't that bad of a guy. Maybe he is just angry at what happened. He may be rough around the edges, but he isn't that bad of a guy…" Dale said weakly.

"Shut the fuck up, Dale! Your opinions don't matter in this argument." Louis shouted at Dale, shutting him down.

At that moment, Samuel's words of encouragement rang through Dale's head. He wasn't going to take any more of their abuse.

"Louis, keep your fucking mouth shut for more than five seconds!" Dale yelled back. The entire group stared at him, wide eyed. They didn't know Dale had it in him to stick up for himself. "I get treated terribly around here. I'm done with that. Either you guys treat me with some respect or I'm leaving."

The men just stood there, looking at Dale with serious faces. Louis broke the silence, "Fine, good riddance. More food for us then, huh?" A few men who sided with him chuckled silently. Trevor was surprised at Dale's sudden confidence, and rethought the way he had been treating him. Trevor got enraged by Louis' remark. He walked over and punched him in the jaw. Louis fell down like a sack of bricks.

Louis was speechless. He looked up at his brother. The entire group was startled at the feud.

"Things are going to change around here this instant. You will not abuse Dale anymore." Trevor commanded.

"Trevor, you sound like the biggest fucking hypocrite. You talk shit to anyone and everyone. You have no right to tell us what to do." Louis said, standing up.

"Well that's going to change. Either we work together as a team, or we are no better off than in a free-for-all. We need to all just put our egos behind us, admit we are all angry and upset, and just try to work this out." Trevor gave a little speech.

Everyone knew that he was right. Trevor turned to Dale.

"Dale, I'm really sorry I've been putting you to shame for the past week. Can you forgive me?" Trevor asked. Dale nodded.

Screeches were heard a few blocks down. This snapped everyone out of their little touching moment.

"Alright, guys, let's get this barricade fixed, and we'll plan what we are going to do for supplies in the morning." Trevor said. He instructed a few men to work on the door, including himself, Tony, and four others.

The rest of the men were told to rest, because they will be on guard duty for the next day. The men agreed, finally happy that they were able to end the feud that threatened the refuge's survival.

Tony, Trevor, and the four other men found scraps from tables and doors, and used them to secure the main entrance to the lobby, knowing they infected might try it again.

Trevor assigned a man who worked on the door with him to go on sniper duty and watch for any more survivors or any infected, and to wake them up if he sees any, but avoid Samuel all together, because he could be more volatile the next time around.

**Chapter 5**

Samuel woke up late, he had trouble waking up and he wasn't used to the cold he felt. He didn't expect any of that to be real, but, sadly to him, it was. He looked around, and stood up. His body was sore from the events that took place last night.

He leaned against the railing of the second story, and saw how everyone seemed happy, even though bloodthirsty demons awaited on their doorstep. The thing that surprised him the most was Trevor's new attitude. When he walked down the stairs, slowly, Trevor greeted him with open arms and a 'good morning.'

"What? Why are you so peppy?" Samuel asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

"The men and I finally got over our anger for each other, and now we don't have any more issues that would affect the whole refuge. We just need to focus on supplies." Trevor said.

"This mood won't last long. The realization will soon hit you like a speeding sixteen wheeler with nitro." Samuel informed his friend.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. We won't know until it happens. Anyway, come with me. The guys and I are discussing how we will get supplies."

Samuel agreed, but before turning down the hallway with Trevor, he checked the door. The main lobby was barricaded with about three feet of tables, wooden panels, and doors. Samuel chuckled at how makeshift it was, like everything in the refuge.

When he and Trevor got to the oversized janitorial closet, everyone seemed so confident of their success in this infected city.

"Trevor! What's the plan?" Louis asked. Samuel noticed his left eye and nose were swollen. He couldn't help but snicker at him.

"Well, you, Tony, Dale, Samuel and I will go into the city. Are you comfortable with this, Sam?"

"Uhh, sure." Samuel responded. He felt like he was in different company. Trevor and the men were so different than they were mere hours ago. "When are we going, and what are we doing?"

"We are going in about an hour, or whenever we are all ready. We are going to the sporting goods store near here to get some spare guns, ammunition, blades, and some food. Then, we hit the market a few blocks from there, take every nonperishable and perishable alike, and make it back here with what we could carry. But that doesn't mean we become over encumbered." Trevor said.

"Alright, good. I'll go grab my stuff, and then we hit the road?" Samuel asked him, heading towards the door so he could get to the second story and grab his submachine gun.

"Yeah, meet us here when you get your stuff. We are all set. We'll give you a duffle bag to through the gear in. We'll all have one." Trevor told him.

With that, Samuel jogged off to get his gear and the rest of the group discussed the plan.

"Alright guys. The men who aren't going on the scavenge team should get the double doors to the school open, and then look around for anything that might be of use to us." Trevor said. He pointed at three guys who had decent firepower. "You three, you'll do fine for looking around classrooms. When you do, keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything out of the ordinary. We don't know how many of those things could be in there. We didn't clear out the rest of the school." The men nodded and walked out of the room. The rest of the men knew their jobs and went with them.

Samuel came back as soon as the others were out, and all that remained was him, Louis, Tony, Dale, Trevor, and two men who would open the doors for them. Samuel forgot he lent his submachine gun to Dale, who already had it in hand. Tony grabbed his shotgun, Louis and Trevor grabbing their heavy pistols.

Trevor threw the team duffle bags, and loaded his pistol. "We go to the sporting goods store, then the market. It's about ten in the morning, so let's try to be thorough."

The men nodded. Once the guys opened the doors in the janitorial closet, the team headed out.

On their way to the stores, Samuel couldn't help but stop and gaze at how serene the whole street was. No dogs barked, no car horns went off, no one yelled at each other. The only sounds were the footsteps of the men's boots and the wind.

"If we weren't in a situation of life or death, this would almost be peaceful," Samuel said, "almost reminds me of the time that me and my wife went to the Catskills a few years back."

"Sounds nice. Where is your wife now?" Trevor asked.

Samuel's expression changed to a sad one, and his eyes shifted to a dark blue. "She kicked me out a few years back. I was homeless for a while. I had a friend who took care of me, but she never let me live in her house for some odd reason."

"That sucks, bro." Tony said. "I had a girl back home. She was this smooth chick with this amazing skill to cook. Oh, my god, during Thanksgiving, her family would come to our apartment. I swear, there must be a gene for fantastic cooking. I never had a meal like that ever." The group chuckled, "I've been in Pittsburg for less than a year. On construction business and all that. The last words she said to me in person were, 'baby, you better get home soon, I don't want to miss you _too_ much.'"

Tears were forming at Tony's eyes as he recalled the last thing his girl friend said to him in person.

"She called me on the phone about three months after, I think around June, and she told me she was four months pregnant with our first child. I was so happy, I was going to be a father! My trip would have ended by the end of November and we would've spent Christmas with the kid." He was sniffling now, and the tears streamed down his face.

"The last thing our mother said to us was, 'Louis! Trevor! Get off your asses and help me with these damn groceries!"

Trevor laughed, "Out of all the things that could have been said. We should have stayed with her…"

"Did your mother pass?" Samuel asked.

"Yes, a few years ago. We helped her with those groceries. She died the day after the Fourth of July. Our mother wanted to make a nice meal for our father who was coming back from the war in Europe. His brigade was attacked by dogs or something… Only he and another man survived."

"Wait, was that in Grekastan? Near the border of Russia?" Samuel asked.

"Yeah, it was. That was you who was with him?! Ha! Small world." Trevor said, "… He told us a lot about you. How brave you were during the War. How old are you, man? You must be, like, fifty?"

"Try thirty eight." Samuel said.

"Oh, shit. You aren't that old. You look much older than that." Trevor said.

"Thanks." Samuel said sarcastically.

"No offence, of course." Trevor tried to justify himself.

As they turned the corner, they saw the front entrance of the sporting goods store. This, being their first time out of the school since the initial infection, made the group except Samuel a little hesitant to enter. They didn't know what was in there, or whether or not whoever was would try to attack them.

The doors of the store opened. Samuel told the group to get behind something. The only thing around were bloodied cars, so the group got out of sight behind the fly-ridden vehicles.

The two who stepped out were far from the original crew's thoughts. It was a man and a boy. They both had hoods up, and they were quickly pushing a squeaking shopping cart off of the main street.

"Hey! You guys need help?!" Tony shouted from behind the car, "We won't hurt you! We are just scavenging for supplies!"

The two people looked over at where they heard Tony's voice and the older man ushered the kid to ditch the cart and run.

"Fuck, Tony!" Samuel cried, "What was that for?!"

"I was just trying to get them to come with us." He replied.

"You didn't need to fucking yell at them! They're gone. Its irreversible now."

"Fine, let's see what they had in that cart." Tony said as he started towards the cart. The rest of the group followed. They looked through every inch of it, and they found nothing of importance to their cause.

"They had no source of protection against the infected." Trevor said. "How were they surviving?"

"Maybe keeping safe in a secure room somewhere? I'm not sure, but that isn't important. Let's get into this sporting goods store and grab what we can." Samuel said.

The group agreed. They headed to the store and opened the nonfunctional automatic doors. The warm air rushed out of the doors. They stepped inside. It was quiet, no music and no people talking… nothing.

They all went their separate ways and agreed to meet back up when they gathered what they could.

Tony and Louis went to the section with certain travel foods.

"What should we get? Dried food? There isn't really anything we can get besides the dried foods." Tony said.

"I suppose so. Just pack all of the bags into the back of the sides of your duffle bag to conserve space for the market's supplies." Louis instructed him.

"Got it." Tony confirmed.

Meanwhile, Dale and Trevor went over to the hunting section.

"Hey, Dale!" Trevor cried, "What are we getting here? Guns? Ammo?"

"That's your call, Trevor. Whatever we need to hold down the school."

"Let's pack your bag with some blades. Are there any blades where you are? There aren't any over by the guns."

"Yeah, some machetes. But that's about it. Oh, and some hunting knives."

"Fixed or closed?" Trevor asked, heading over to his companion.

"Fixed I think. Want me to pack them?"

Trevor looked at the knives. "Yeah, pack the machetes first and whatever you have room for, pack the fixed blades. Then, come help me with the guns, please."

Samuel looked around for clothing. The other two items they needed for the refuge were already being tracked down by the other two groups. He looked at coats, shoes, and everything in between. He wouldn't have enough room in the bag for everyone to get new clothes, but the extra jackets could be useful for people the will freeze in the upcoming winter.

He packed most of the bag with jackets and pants, and had enough room to still fill it with about a dozen cans of food.

The group met back by the entrance about a half hour after searching for items.

"Alright," Samuel said, "what did we get? I got clothing for the winter. Not much, but we should stop back here sometime and get the clothing."

"Tony and I got food. Its freeze dried, so we should try to get something to start a fire and heat water." Louis said.

"Good, good. There should be plenty of paper in the market. Hopefully, there should be something left there. We can use the cardboard packaging to start a fire tonight. What did you get, guys?" Samuel asked Trevor and Dale.

"Dale had machetes and some fixed knives, and I collected guns to better outfit the refuge." Trevor told Samuel.

"That's some good stuff, guys. Nice job. Let's go his that supermarket and get food, or should we wait till tomorrow and unload everything we have?" Samuel inquired.

"I think we should just get to the market. See what we have to take, do an inventory, drop off our current loot from here, and then go back tomorrow and stock up on food." Trevor suggested.

"I liked that idea better. Let's go." Samuel said. He and his group headed outside.

They forced open the doors again. Listening to the wind rush into the store, the cold nipped at any exposed skin. The sun was beaming down from its highest point. It was about noon, as they observed.

They looked up at the skyscrapers of the city, and they heard rustling and banging coming from one of the building. A loud bang sounded from overhead and stone mixed with steel rods fell from the sky. The group looked in the direction of the building across the street from the sporting goods store. When the dust settled, an oversized man stood in the hole in the wall.

His veins and muscles bulged from his arms, legs and torso. His shirt was torn terribly, nearly a rag around his chest. He wore jeans, but those, too, were terribly ripped. He eyes were blood shot; the only things visible in the man's eyes were crimson red and black, small pupils. He was around ten feet tall, the muscles backing up his immense height. He let out a long, bellowing roar that shook the ground.

The group was terrified. Samuel started to grunt in pain and scream. His eyes grew bloodshot as well, and he roared back at the giant beast. The remaining of the group stepped back, not wanting to get involved in what these two were about to get into.

The giant monster jumped down, landing, and cracking the concrete beneath him. A thin cloud of dust and dirt spun around him as he breathed extremely heavy. When the dust settled, the men saw he was even more disfigured than before. His entire face was covered in black lines. They were most likely his veins. He let out another ground trembling roar as he ran at Samuel. Samuel screeched and tried to block its attack, but the brute's strength was too much for him.

Samuel flew back, slamming about fifteen feet above the concrete into the wall of the sporting goods store. He was stuck in there, and he appeared unconscious.

Dale raised the submachine gun and started to shoot. The rest of the group followed. Their bullets seemed to just bounce off the massive infected. It only seemed to make him increasingly angry. Dale continued to spray his gun. When he ran out, and the rest of the group was reloading, the infected brute looked at Dale, and let out a threatening roar.

"Oh, shit!" Dale screamed, and he tried to run away from the infected. This was, of course, of no use. The brute closed the gap between itself and Dale, and hoisted it up by his neck.

Breathing heavily, the infected wrapped his massive hand around Dale's head. Dale screamed for help as the grip of the brute tightened more and more. The group could only stare in horror at what happened; they couldn't help.

The infected let out another menacing roar and gripped Dale's head so tight, it was crushed under the immense pressure. Blood trickled between its massive fingers, and Dale's body fell limp to the ground.

The group, wide eyed, started to shoot, now enraged by their friends murder. The brute charged the group. Then only thing keeping them in place was their adrenaline and anger.

Just as the giant man was about to reach the group, he fell to the ground, inches before the group's feet. The giant man looked behind him, as did the group. Holding on to the infected's leg was Samuel, looking unbelievably angry. He let out an ear piercing shriek that made the group cringe. The infected seemed hurt by it, as well.

Using a force that was inhumane, Samuel began to spin the giant infected around in a circle. After about a few moments of him doing this, the infected looked as though he was moving at light speed. Samuel then took the giant thing, and dragged it over his head onto the ground. The splat from the impact echoed down the street. The infected exploded in a giant mess of guts, blood, and muscle.

The group was drenched with the blood. The splash from Samuel's kill was enormous and sprayed most of the street. Samuel breathed heavily, looking as though he just dipped himself into a pool of red paint.

Samuel once again screamed in pain as the white veins in his neck faded. Bones seemed to crack, and muscles tore as his body went through some sort of molecular change.

He fell forward and passed out. The group rushed over to him to get him up. They looked at Dale's decapitated body down the street and Tony silently went to grab his bag. They silently walked all the way back. Louis and Trevor carried Samuel's unconscious body. Tony kept watch, with Dale's old submachine gun slung over his back, and his shot gun in his tight grip.

They didn't speak for most of the way back. They couldn't. They were too afraid from earlier. Tony finally broke the silence.

"What the fuck was that thing?" He asked.

"How the hell should we know?" Louis asked, "Did you see the size of that mother fucker? He was, like, fifteen feet tall!"

"And Samuel," Trevor said silently, "Did you see how he just spun him around like it was nothing?"

"I'm glad we didn't blow his brains over the ceiling." Tony said.

"Says the asshole the shot at him," Trevor said. "Hopefully there aren't any more of those big fuckers. That would cause fucking pandemonium at the refuge."

"They'll want to know why we look like a Jackson Pollock." Louis said.

"Let's just wait until Samuel regains consciousness, and then we will answer questions." Trevor said. The other two agreed.

They turned the corner and saw their refuge. They were relieved that it wasn't attacked. They quickly hurried down the street. Louis and Trevor struggled with Samuel's heavy body.

They eventually pounded on the door. The sun had barely even reached its high point.

The sounds of chains rattling and metal clanging came from behind the door, and once it was opened, the men rushed inside.

Tony cleared a table, and the brother set Samuel on it. Blood dribbling out of his mouth, the rest of the men surrounded him.

"Is he alright?" One asked.

"What happened?" asked another.

"Why the hell are you guys covered in blood?"

"Where is Dale?"

So many voices flooded Trevor's ears. He was starting to break down. He had lost a good man today, and didn't want any of this.

"Shut up! All of you!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "Samuel is unconscious, we got attacked by this big infected, the guy exploded so that's why we're covered in blood, and Dale's dead! There! Are you guys happy now?!" Trevor put his head into his hands and sighed heavily. "Did you guys look through the other part of the school?"

"Yes we did," one man said.

"Romulus and I went in," His look-a-like said.

"Who?" Trevor asked, turning around.

"Romulus and Remus. They came here about an hour after you guys left. They said that they needed a place to stay for a few hours." One man added.

"Huh. Weird name for you guys." Trevor said.

"It's Roman." Romulus said. Romulus was taller and slightly more built than Remus, but they both had the Mediterranean look.

"Romulus and Remus were they supposed founders of Rome." Remus said.

"Oh, and they finish each other's sentences. How quaint." Trevor said. "What did you two find? Anything good? Tools, food, clothing?"

"Just empty classrooms. Bodies. Mostly children." Remus said sadly.

"It's sad how these children, with such futures, were ended in a terrible, terrible way." Romulus added.

"They were mauled apart. Those infected must not want any children in their army."

"That is a shame." Trevor said. "Whatever did that, we'll kill it. Did you find any infected at all in the halls."

"No. The other halls are all clear. I'd keep people out of them though. It smells like… well… rotting corpses in there."

"That sucks." Tony said.

"We need to focus now on what we are going to do about Samuel, and a new sniper. We have a spot open, sadly? Any takers?" Trevor asked. The room fell silent. The men looked back and forth at each other.

"I'll do it." One man asked, raising his hand all the way in the back. It was Paul. He had reluctantly taken the job of patrolling the front of the school.

"Good, you'll start tomorrow." Trevor said with a smile.

Samuel suddenly sat upright. The movement startled the room. He stared at everyone with such a straight and scared face.

"Guys?" He asked, "What the fuck was that and why the fuck are you guys covered in blood?"

"You remember what happened after you went insane?" Louis asked.

"Yeah, sadly. That was a big fucker. When he hit me into the wall, I thought I was done for."

"You _destroyed _him though. That's all that matters." Louis said, "Hopefully there won't be threats like that anymore."

"So, about Dale…" Samuel started. "I'm really sorry guys. He was a good guy." He didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah…" Trevor said, mournfully.

Samuel's smelled something foul. He wrinkled his nose. "What is that God-awful smell?" he asked.

"You better look at yourself, champ." Tony said.

Samuel did so. He saw his entire torso and legs covered in the thick, red liquid. He let out a short scream.

"What the fuck?!" He yelled

"You did some crazy shit back at the sporting goods store. You passed out. Trevor and I carried you back." Louis said.

"Well, we're in a high school, are there any showers?" Samuel asked.

Remus cut into the conversation. "Yes, in the locker rooms."

"They aren't that tainted though either. Pretty clean." Romulus added.

"Well, you guys want to get rid of these clothes and get the fucking blood off of us?" Samuel asked.

"That would be a blessing. There isn't any hot water though; we rested it the third day here." Trevor said.

"We can start a fire, right? Heat up the water?" Tony asked.

"Not if you want half of the school to blow up." Trevor sneered.

"Don't get so cocky, Trevor." Louis said trying to calm his angered brother.

Trevor sighed. "Sorry. I'm fucking enraged about Dale…"

"We all are." Samuel comforted him. "Let's just take a shower and get changed. We will all feel much better. Did you two barricade the door after you went through?" he pointed to twins.

"Yes we did." Remus said.

"But we designed it so it couldn't open without enough force and not break." Romulus said.

"We were engineers." Remus said.

"Engineers? That's great. We could have an easier time devising traps and other means of protection." Samuel said.

"Sam, grab that bag you filled with clothes and let's get over to the showers. I feel like shit and need to get this drying blood off of my skin, even if the water is as cold as Louis' heart." Trevor said.

"Fuck you, Trev." Louis said, chuckling.

The four men started the showers. The water was bone-chilling, but they braved it if it meant to get the infected blood off of their skin. The white tiles beneath their feet were being stained red. The drains clogged with dried blood.

"I feel so much better." Tony said.

"We all do. What are we gonna do about Dale? What should we tell the people?" Trevor said.

"Tell them the truth: he was killed. All the more reason to fight." Louis said.

"You people need to learn the foundation of survival under crisis: Moral." Samuel said.

"What the fuck? You said just this morning that we wouldn't be better for long." Trevor said.

"I know, but still." Samuel said.

"Don't be a hypocrite, you prick." Tony said, chuckling.

"Fuck off, Tony, you douche bag." Samuel laughed back.

"Whatever you say, you deranged asshole." Tony joked.

"Deranged? What are you even talking about?" Samuel said with a laugh. By now, the four men were throwing threats at each other jokingly.

"Hey, are we going back out to that market tomorrow by the way?" Trevor broke the laughter by saying.

The three stopped laughing and got serious.

"I'm not sure. Isn't there some other place we can go? That area is Dale's grave now…" Samuel said. He was surprised that they weren't more serious after Dale's death.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to go looking for some alcohol and smokes later. Any of you guys want anything? I could pick up some soda or something on the way out there. I'll take a different route, and not disturb Dale's resting site." Tony said.

"Yeah, I'll go. I want to grab myself some smokes from the Indian reservation about fifteen minutes out, but it's in the opposite direction of the market. You guys wanna tag along?" Louis said.

"You know I do, Lou." Trevor said. Trevor and Louis were big smokers. Their family had also had a history of addiction to a multitude if narcotics and alcohol. Trevor and Louis never dipped into anything illegal, but they enjoyed their occasional Cuban.

"Alright. Tony and I will go to the market and grab some beer, or vodka, whatever is there and not taken, and you two will go to the reservation and grab cigars and cigarettes? That sounds like a plan. We go at around four? We meet back by six, before sun down. Sound like a plan?" Samuel explained.

"Sounds good." Trevor said. Louis and Tony agreed.

**Chapter 6**

Four o'clock came around quickly. The Op base was empty except for the scavenge team and the two men who would open up the doors for them.

"Remember, be back here _by_ sundown, alright? We don't know what might be out there beyond then." Samuel told the other three with a serious tone.

"We know, man. Don't keep beating the dead horse." Tony said.

"I just don't want you guys to get dropped. That's the last thing we want, right?"

Samuel turned and waved at the guards. They unlocked the chained doors and prepared to open them. Trevor tossed the now empty duffle bags to the other three.

"Just stay safe, guys. Got it?" Samuel asked. They all walked towards the door. The four men were locked and loaded and ready to fight for each other.

Trevor chuckled and patted Samuel's arm lightly.

"We'll be okay, Sam. See you at six." Trevor said smugly.

Tony and Samuel eventually got to the sporting goods store. The blood was still splattered over the walls, but it was turning into a brownish hue. Dale's body still laid there, headless. Flies buzzed around the blood stained street.

"Let's… go a different way." Tony said. Samuel agreed without hesitation, and they saw an alleyway to the right of the street, which they followed.

Since the market was passed the sporting goods store, the two took it all the way down until it spilt out in a once-bustling crossroads.

Two tall skyscrapers stood on opposite corners. The indoor market stood on one and a clothing store stood on the other. They two headed inside with their weapons ready to shoot. They didn't know what was in there, and the Blaine brothers were off getting other things, so they needed to be hesitant in this store.

The store was in pretty bad shape. Like at the sporting goods store, the automated doors were not operational and the two needed to force them open.

"Great, the doors are jammed. Help me open them?" Tony said, forgetting about Samuel's increased physical strength.

"Yeah, did you forget about my strength?" Samuel said. He walked over to the door, and cocked his fist back. He threw it at the metal doorframe connecting the two glass panes.

With a loud clang and glass shattering, the doors flew out of place, and glass scattered the entrance.

The two strode in and looked around. The lights were mainly out, but the ones that weren't were flickering rapidly. Most of the shelves were empty, and the remaining food items were ripped open, from possible fighting between people attacking each other for food.

Samuel and Tony each took a few isles in the market and scavenged the shelves for any source of food that they could store at the refuge. Tony looked through the shelves for any form of wheat-based items, and Samuel looked for any types of snacks to keep the moral a bit boosted.

Samuel walked down the candy idle. Oddly enough, most of the shelves were still chock full of candy boxes and bags. He was happy that his favorite brands were still there, so he began filling his duffle bag up with anything that might have been enjoyed by the people in the refuge.

Tony walked into the frozen foods section. The power to the freezers being off for a few days, the meat and other animal based product started to reek. The smell treated Tony's nostrils terribly, but he braved it if it meant a few good bottles of beer.

He got through the terrible stench and arrived to an entire freezer wall. Lining the shelves were beers and vodkas of every kind. Most of the bottles were on the floor and broken, but he still was able to find some.

"Hey, Sam!" he yelled across the store.

"Yeah?!" The man responded.

"What type of alcohol do you like?! Vodka! Beer! Wine! Hell, they even have Whiskey here!"

"The vodka is still there?! Pack me a few bottles of that! There is also a shelf full of candy! Any picks?!"

"If you can get some Skittles, that would be great!"

"Alright, hold on, let me check!" Samuel was silent for a few moments when he looked through the shelves. "It's your lucky day, Tony! A few big bags of the shit!"

"Awesome! I already filled up on the alcohol, and I have some pastas and shit. You done?" Tony announced, still looking through the shelves for anything he could chug now.

"Yeah, lets meet up in the front!" Samuel yelled back. "I got a good amount of junk food to try to raise moral."

"Alright, be right there." Tony turned around. Standing in front of him was a little child, the same child that left the store with the older man earlier the same day.

"Why are you taking me and daddy's food?" He asked in a nice sweet voice.

Tony felt terrible. "I didn't mean to, bud. I'm just gathering supplies with my friend so we can survive."

"No one takes me and daddy's food…" the child said in an ominous voice.

"Tony! Let's go!" Samuel cried to him.

"Let go of our food!" the child screamed. He grabbed Tony's leg and threw him into a shelf. Tony hit the shelf hard, causing the rest to fall like dominoes.

Samuel heard the commotion and headed for the back isles, watching the shelves fall.

Tony looked back up at the kid. His eyes had turned into a bitch black, and he started to scream like the infected. His opened his mouth wide until he tore skin following his jaw line.

Tony screamed in horror, and took his shotgun out. He immediately pulled the trigger, and shot the child point blank as he charged. The child flew into the beer shelves, breaking more glass. The child sat there in the shelves, his head down.

Tony got up and set the bag of alcohol down. Miraculously, nothing had broken. Samuel turned the corner and looked at the child in the shelves.

"What the fuck is that?" Samuel asked.

"I'm not even sure… scary motherfucker though." Tony said.

Suddenly, he was picked up from behind. He heard another ear piercing scream from behind him. Samuel started to scream in pain and fall to the floor.

Not being able to defend himself, he accepted what was happening to him: his death.

He tossed his gun to the side, closed his eyes, and prayed. He wanted it to be painless.

"Don't take our food!" The thing from behind him yelled in a deep, terrifying voice. An immense shock of pain shot into Tony's back, and he felt as though he was being impaled.

The infected man, the same one from earlier, ran his arm into Tony's back. He gripped to whatever he first came in contact with, which was his spine. The man tore out Tony's spine with a single thrust. The blood poured out. The man tossed the spine to the side, and reached his other arm into Tony's body. He proceeded to rip him into two. Tony's internal organs and blood fell to the floor, splashing over the man's pants.

Samuel had finally gotten up, his eyes a fiery red. The white veins glowed brighter than they did earlier. He saw Tony's halves on the floor, and looked at the infected. He let out a low roar which progressed to a high shriek. Samuel rushed the infected. Grabbing him by the jacket with both of his blood stained hands, the infected man took Samuel and threw him into the beer shelves.

Glass shards pierced his back slightly. Samuel looked up and let out another shriek. He grabbed a broken bottle head and threw it at the infected, which instinctively blocked it. Taking the advantage of the opening, Samuel moved up and upper cutted the infected, sending him flying across the store.

The infected was impaled through the throat on a metal pipe sticking out of the ceiling. His speed caused the pipe to decapitate him. His head fell to the floor while his body continued to fly across the store.

Once the threat of the infected was gone, Samuel started to scream again. His veins dimmed down and his eyes faded back to the glowing blue. Samuel fell to his knees and then passed out, collapsing into the mess of blood and glass.

Trevor and Louis headed up the hill of the forest about fifteen minutes from the school. They remember this smoke lodge that a tribe of Indians used. They had a childhood friend that was from this tribe, who they lost contact with after elementary school.

"Damn, Lou, we should have excised more. Fuck me." Trevor said in between gasps for breath.

"It's a good thing that we quit smoking, right?" Louis said.

"Let's just get to the place and see if we survive."

The two brothers continued their slow and labored climb to the Indian village. They didn't see any smoke rising over the horizon like they did when they were kids.

They eventually got to the wooden gates, which were wide open.

"Ah, shit…" Trevor said silently. He knew what had happened. He just hoped that some of the guys got out of there before the entire village was mauled.

They walked in slowly. Their fears had been confirmed. The entire village had been mauled. Teepees were torn open and rotting bodies laid in them. Blood soaked the roads. Along the walls, some bodies were impaled by the tips of the spiked barricade. The whole forest was nearly silent. No birds, no animals, no bushes or leaves rustled. The only sounds were the wind and Trevor and Louis' breathing.

They looked around. There were about four log cabins. Hopefully, there was some form of tobacco in any of the cabins.

"I'll take the two on the far side, and you can take the two right here." Louis said.

"Alright. If you find any form of cigarettes or cigars, pipes even, take them."

"Got it, Trev." Louis said as he headed off to the back cabins.

Trevor walked up the creaking wooden steps to find that the door was locked. He budged and budged. Nothing worked. He resorted to smashing the window of the door to unlock it.

Once inside, he looked around. It looked so peaceful. He felt like nothing bad could have happened here. Everything was so neat and orderly…

He brushed off the thought and ripped through drawers and trunks to try and find any source of tobacco. He found nothing in the first room and headed to the bedroom. The bed was made neat and looked like no one had slept in it for years. He headed to the dresser on the other side of the room and pried open the drawers. Rummaging through the clothes and knick knacks, he found three cartons of popular, expensive, and well-crafted cigarettes. His face had the biggest smile that day than in the past few years.

He quickly stuffed the cartons into his bag, and headed outside. The sun was a decent way from the horizon, and he hurried to the second cabin. He didn't see Louis, so he thought that he was still rummaging through the other cabin. The second cabin was open, and this one was the polar opposite than the other. The windows were broken. The floor was littered with random items, none of which were of any value.

He walked over all of the items to the bedroom. Since the basic layout of both the cabins was the same, Trevor followed the same path as he did the first time around.

The drawers were torn out and littered across the floor. The mattress was against the window, and it looked like someone had barricaded themselves in here to defend against the infected. Bullet shells scattered the floor.

He looked through the clothes in the drawers and didn't find anything. Disappointed, he left and waited for his brother near the entrance.

After about five minutes with no word, he went to the cabin he had gone to first. Trevor looked around. He saw signs of Louis' presence, but no Louis. He headed to the next one.

As he walked around the corner of the house towards the stairs, he heard screaming and glass breaking. The door was launched off its hinges as Louis was thrown out of the door.

An infected sprinted out and mounted Louis, scratching at his face.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" He whispered as he aimed his pistol and shot at the infected. His heavy pistol was able to harm the infected, but only slightly. Louis screamed as blood gushed from his face. The infected stopped mauling its victim and turned to Trevor.

Their eyes met. Suddenly, Trevor felt no remorse for killing. Something snapped in him when he saw his brother getting mauled. Trevor raised his left hand.

"Come at me, you fuck." He said casually.

The infected screeched as he rushed Trevor, who shot him point blank in the knee cap.

On the ground, helpless since he couldn't move, the infected gurgled and let out periodic screeches as Trevor stepped lightly on its head.

"Don't ever fuck with a Blaine, you cocksucker." Trevor said menacingly. He moved is foot a bit to the left to allow the bullet access to the infected's brain.

He pulled the trigger and the massive slug cracked the thing's cranium, his head exploding like a firework.

Once he let it sink in that he just enjoyed killing that thing, he rushed back over to his brother. His face was nearly gone from all the attacks. His breathing was labored.

"That… quote… was fucking… terrible." He said. Louis was losing a lot of blood, and the force from him being thrown out the door possibly ruptured some organs.

Trevor knelt against him, tears forming in his eyes. "At least I have a catch phrase now, right?" He sniffled.

"Hey, little bro, quit your fucking crying." Louis said seriously.

"Louis… I don't want you to die. I don't want to lose you." Trevor said, crying.

"I don't want to die, either. But you need to be strong, bro. You looked pretty fucking serious when shot that bitch." Louis issaid, lightly slapping his brother's cheek with his bloodied hand.

"I wish this never fucking happened… I really hope that those two got some alcohol at the market…"

"They probably did, Trev. Just do a favor for me, okay?" Louis said weakly. Trevor knew he was about to die.

"Anything, Lou."

"Kill those fucking bastards, and keep the refuge safe." Louis' head tilted to the side and his eyes shut.

Trevor let out a long cry. He lost his brother, his best friend. He sat in the dirt next to his brother's corpse and cried. He cried long and hard. He let all his anger and sadness pour out with those tears. He didn't know what he was going to do now.

The sun was dipping below the horizon. Trevor needed to get moving. He wiped away the tears and got up. He bent back down and kissed his brother's forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Lou, I love you." He said. He backed up and then started back to the school.

Along the path back down from the village, he opened up a pack of the expensive cigarettes. He had never tried them due to their price, but he thought that they would be worth it. He took out his Zippo that he and his brother got matching pairs of, and lit the cigarette.

Trevor stopped and inhaled. He filled his lungs with the poisonous fumes and breathed them out slowly. It's been a while since he smoked. It felt fantastic.

He continued along the path until he reached the city, finishing off about a pack before he reached the school. He knocked on the door about twenty minutes after sundown, stopping periodically to look at the rising moon or to attempt to enjoy the scenery.

The doors were opened by the guards, and they knew immediately where Louis was. They stared at Trevor's angry face. They didn't expect either of the Blaines to die at all. He walked through the refuge, ignoring everyone who tried to talk to him. He headed up to the balcony of the second story. Paul was sitting in the chair.

"Inside. Now." Trevor demanded.

"Oh, okay." Paul said. He got out of the chair. "You alright, Trevor?"

Trevor ignored Paul's question and sat in the lawn chair. He opened up the duffle bag and took out another pack of cigarettes.

"Paul, please go find Samuel for me. Thanks." Trevor said in a monotone voice.

"Actually, he hasn't returned yet. And neither has Tony." Paul said.

Trevor looked out at the city, basked in the moonlight. He was now getting worried that he had lost more people, and thus weakening the refuge. He needed to find him. Hopefully he could find a group willing to go into the infected city and help find him.

No. He couldn't do that. No one would agree to help him. Maybe Romulus and Remus. Those two seem like they could handle themselves.

He thought nothing of it. He had just lost his brother after all. He just needed to sit back and try to enjoy the night. He was too shaken up to sleep and probably wouldn't even want to be seen for a while. He just needed some time alone.

He waved his hand toward Paul, signaling him to shut the door on his way out, not saying a word. He smoked away another pack of cigarettes in about an hour. He didn't know what to do. His brother was the only reason he was here. That, and to protect the other people. The force of his death was a bigger impact than he thought.

Samuel opened his eyes. He picked up his head and looked around. The lights flickered in the market, and Samuel's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh, shit, Tony!" He got up immediately and ran over to the last place he remembered Tony being. His suspicions were confirmed. A mess of blood and guts were strewn over the isle. He could pick out Tony's clothing among the mess.

"Fuck…" he whispered. He needed to get back to the school. The place must be worried sick.

He grabbed his submachine gun and the two duffle bags off the ground near the shelves and headed to the front exit. He didn't know how long he was out, but it was way past sundown.

He stepped outside, the temperature had dropped drastically from earlier, and the wind didn't help.

He looked to his left, then his right. He tried to get his bearings on where he was, but the city looked different at night.

Suddenly, he heard the roar a car engine speeding up. He looked to his left and saw headlights approaching around the corner. He panicked. The only idea he thought of was to hide behind a car.

Once he hid, he waited for the vehicle to pass.

It didn't. A pick-up truck rolled to a halt in front of the market, several men hopped out of the back, and a driver and passenger stepped out.

"This is where you heard the screams, Ryan?" One said in a scruffy voice.

"Yeah, glass broke and shit. I didn't go inside because it sounded like something fierce was going down." A man responded.

"Well, let's see if—"

"Wait! Don't go in there!" Samuel stood up and yelled to the group. His glowing eyes attracted their attention.

"Oh, shit! What the fuck is up with his eyes?!" One man yelled. They all raised their guns at Samuel. Once Samuel was able to get a good look at them, he noticed they wore the same getup: all black clothing, a sleeveless vest, black boots, and a gas mask.

"Don't shoot! I'm not going to attack you! I need a way to get back to the school to get to a refuge." Samuel was impulsive to get back any way possible, ignoring the consequences.

"Refuge, eh?" one man said slyly. "That means that there will be food and water and other things for us. I think we hit a jackpot, boys." The men laughed. "Now, we need to just get you out of the way."

The men started to spray the car Samuel was behind. Samuel ducked in an effort to keep safe. He could feel his heart beat picking up. All the sound drowned out of his ears, until he could only hear the blood pumping through his veins.

He felt angry again. His eyes, yet again, changed to a dark red hue. He let out a menacing roar and the men stopped shooting, they stared at the car, waiting for… it.

Samuel stood up, and aimed his gun at the men, sending a steady stream of led, killing all of his attackers. He stopped shooting, the anger subsided. He expected to pass out when he lost his anger and the threats were eliminated, but he didn't. He let his breathing slow down, and then walked over to the bodies. He looked down at them and looted, expecting to find something good.

Normally, he wouldn't have done this, since he was disrespecting the dead, but he needed more ammunition and, possibly, a new gun. He could only find ammunition for their assault rifles, the M4. He was familiar with this rifle since he used it during the war.

He picked up the one in the best visible condition, and grabbed a few magazines off the dead bodies. He looked at the car, which was still running.

Smirking, he walked over to the driver's door and hopped in. The truck was pre-war, which meant it had no fingerprint scanner instead of a key. He knew how to drive pre-war cars, so it would be a cinch for him to get back to the school in a few minutes.

When he pulled around the back of the school, and headed to the door, Trevor tore open the doors and ran up to him.

"Where the fuck have you been, Sam!" He yelled. "And where is Tony? And what the fuck is that?" He asked, pointing at the truck.

"I passed out and woke up about five minutes ago. Tony was killed and I got attacked by the people, probably bandits. This truck is what they rolled up in." Samuel explained. "They had some guns, but most of them were in poor condition so I didn't bring them back."

"Did you get the booze?" Trevor whispered to Samuel. Samuel nodded and headed to the truck. He took out two bags from the passenger side, throwing one to Trevor and slinging the other one over his shoulder.

"There's candy in that one, for the refuge, and the alcohol is in this one." Samuel said. Trevor opened the bag and smiled. He took out a box of chocolate.

"I think we should distribute these out, and you and I sit on the balcony. Smoke and drink a bit." He said, sniffling.

"What about Lou—." Samuel stopped himself. He knew what happened.

"There is some good stuff in here. Want a few boxes?" Trevor asked. "Oh, my god! I haven't seen these fruity things in years!" He took out a yellow box with some sugary pieces printed on the side. "Let's hand these out, come on."

Samuel hopped into the driver's side and took out the key. Trevor was a bit relieved that the car didn't need a scan, or else they would have had an issue with getting it started.

Samuel caught up to Trevor and the two doormen closed the set of double doors. The two quickly walked down the hallway to the main lobby where the people sat. Trevor tossed the bag onto the ground.

"Share evenly, alright? It's all we have in means of anything that's edible." He smiled. "Come, I have something for you." He told Samuel.

Samuel obeyed, and followed Trevor to the balcony, where two lawn chairs sat side by side, with a small table in the center. The table had on top of it two packs of cigarettes and an ashtray. The table also had enough room to hold some bottles.

"I got three cartons of these expensive smokes from the reservation. They cost, like, twenty dollars a pack." Trevor said. He sat down, pointing to the chair on his right, telling Samuel to do the same. Samuel carefully placed the duffle bag in front of the chair, sat down, and opened it.

"You like vodka?" Samuel asked. He took out a bottle for himself and another to show Trevor what brand it was.

"No. Have any rum? Or whiskey?" Trevor asked.

"I think I have a bottle of that. Let me check." Samuel placed the vodka next to the first one and shuffled through glass bottles looking for the poison Trevor requested.

"Yeah, we have some spiced rum, and heavy whiskey. Take your pick." Samuel said.

"Both?" Trevor asked, cracking a smile.

Samuel laughed. "Sure, bud. Here," He handed him the two bottles. "They're both twist tops."

"Good," Trevor said, opening the rum and taking a swig of it. He bore a disgusted face, and gagged, "Oh, god, it's been a while." He took another swig and cleared his throat. "How did Tony die?"

The question was sudden. Samuel couldn't speak, he choked on his words. After mumbling for a bit, he told him.

"There was this kid. I think he was infected. He made the same screeching noise the others did. Only I think that something changed, because I heard the kid yelled. Other infected couldn't talk. Why can this one? Well, Tony killed it, and then, when I turned around the corner, there was another one. It turned out to be the boy and the man from the sporting goods store earlier.

"Then, the older bastard picked Tony up and ripped his fucking spine out." Samuel took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it with the lighter on the table. "Ripped him in half. I'm sure they were infected. When the older guy let out a scream, he opened his mouth really wide; tore the skin around his mouth into this fucked up smile."

"That's fucked up." Trevor said, taking more swigs from his rum bottle. "Are these smokes good or what? They are the most expensive packs around. Hand rolled, tobacco made carefully using the best ingredients. This shit should be more expensive." Trevor lit one up.

"I'm sorry." Samuel said, sipping from his bottle and smoking his cigarette.

Trevor knew exactly what he was referring to. He knew Samuel knew, and his apology felt sincere.

"I felt no remorse for killing that inhuman fuck. Slaughtered the bastard, shot him in the brain." Trevor said. "Louis was thrown out of this lodge we were investigating. He hit the one next to it with such force. This ugly fucker jumped on him and started slashing his face and neck. Something just… snapped in me at that moment. I felt this uncontrollable rage. Like when you encounter infected. So I fucked him up."

"That's some serious shit, man." Samuel said. He finished off his vodka and opened the next one. "I'm so sorry for your loss." Samuel looked at Trevor, who nodded.

"Let's just enjoy what little down time we have until something else is fucked up." Trevor told his friend.

"I plan on it. I don't expect to move from this spot for a bit." Samuel said.

"One more thing, that scientist fellow…" Trevor began.

Samuel rolled his eyes, "What about him?"

"Did you go through his recorder?"

Samuel looked at Trevor, shocked. He didn't show him the recorder, nor did he even speak of it.

"How do you know of that?" Samuel asked.

"Did you?" Trevor asked again. "Did you go through the _entire_ recorder?"

Samuel hesitated, "…No. I didn't." he admitted.

"I did, when you fell asleep after the first attack. There was some interesting stuff on it. Also some stuff about his life, and what happened to you. I listened to one entry. He said it was about three days after your arrival. Hardwin said that he had one vial of that virus shit on him, and another he kept in some safe outside the campus, near his home.

"I don't know how he got it there without being ripped apart by those damn things, but somehow he did. And he said that it was able to inject one person. Would you be willing to take me to wherever the house is, and get that vial? I want to inject myself." Trevor told Samuel

Samuel had no words for his sudden anger at Trevor. His eyes flared red.

"You think it would be good for you to have this shit? The pain I go through when seeing one of those infected bastards, my entire fucking body shoot with this pain. You think it would be good for you to feel that shit too?" Samuel roared.

"I want to combat those infected bastards like you do. I don't want to stay on the sidelines, having one infected possibly be my death or others deaths. We need twenty men armed with assault rifles to be able to be able to take out maybe half a dozen of them. You could rip through twenty or more by yourself. Do you see where I'm going with this? This could help us out tenfold! We need this, Sam." Trevor said.

"We don't need any more people with this fucking virus." Samuel combated.

"Why not? Because you think that? Listen, I know you don't want us to go through the pain you do, but we shouldn't dwell on that. We need to think about the best for all of us, and our survival for the future." Trevor argued.

At this point, the two were standing up and in each other's faces. Samuel walked over to the balcony and rested himself on it. Trevor sat back in the lawn chair. Samuel let out a long sigh.

"We go tomorrow. Around noon?"

Trevor smiled brighter than ever, "Thank you so much, Sam. I really appreciate it. This could do so much for the refuge. Now let's go and get some sleep. It's getting late."

The two were slightly intoxicated, but sober enough to walk straight. They both stood against either side of the balcony's doorframe, and slid down to the floor, their knees to their chests, and fell asleep.

**Chapter 7**

Samuel and Trevor woke up at about the same time, early, and had mild hangovers. They looked at each other and chuckled a bit.

"You still want to get that shit? Or was it just the rum talking?" Samuel asked.

"Well, how about we leave in an hour or so. Let me work off this hangover. It's mild, but I don't want it getting in the way." Trevor insisted.

"That would probably be the best idea." Samuel groaned. He stood up and headed outside. The light from the mid day sun blinded him. He blocked the sun's path with his hand, and stumbled over to the lawn chair. He sat down and took another cigarette from the pack.

"Really? You just woke up, Sam." Trevor said. "Let yourself wake up before smoking a bit."

"No, I'm good. This is how I get over my hangovers," Samuel said, pointing to the cigarette.

"When are we going to get going to that guy's house? I estimate it's about twelve right now, so let's go at about one thirty?" Trevor asked.

"Yeah, I'll get some food and fill myself." With that, Samuel put out the cigarette and went to look for food.

One thirty came around quickly. Trevor and Samuel prepared themselves for their jaunt to Hardwin's abode. From an interview on a news channel, Hardwin lived about twenty minutes away from the city. His house was implanted into the side of a hill, drilled into a rock.

Samuel loaded his M4, and Trevor his heavy pistol. They used the ammunition from the sporting goods store and packed about a dozen rounds. The guards were prepared to open the doors for them. Samuel took the car key out of his pocket.

"Let's get in the truck and get onto the highway. We should head north. I remember from an interview that his house was in a hill up north, so let's head there." Samuel said.

"How far north?" Trevor asked.

"About twenty minutes or so. It's before the Murinka Farm. Maybe we should also stop there. Might be some food growing." Samuel suggested.

"Good idea." Trevor agreed. He and Samuel started for the door, ushering the guards to open it. Once they got out and heard the chains and lock click, they opened the truck. Samuel sat in the driver's seat and started the car, while Trevor got in the passenger and opened the window, in case he needed to shoot at either infected or other men.

The truck's engine roared to life. The black smoke leaked out of the exhaust. Trevor laughed at how powerful this vehicle sounded. Samuel stepped on the gas, and headed down the street.

The front of the truck was out fitted with a series of reinforced metals that acted as a plow. The engine sounded powerful, speeding up to sixty miles down the street. Every car and barricade was incomparable to these small cars. The cars were like feathers to this behemoth of a truck.

The two were enjoying their trek through the desolate city. The speed they were travelling in this three and a half ton brute was entertaining to them.

They eventually arrived closer to the edge of the city. They still didn't know the exact location of Hardwin's home, but they would search high and low until they found it.

"Where the hell is this place?" Trevor asked when Samuel and he were a few minutes into the woods. He looked through every gap in between trees for the supposedly exotic house.

"I'm not even sure." Samuel responded.

They drove up to a path on the left side of the road. Samuel stopped the car and looked down it. He couldn't see the end of the road, but he thought it would be a good place to start looking for the house.

Trevor agreed. Samuel headed down the path. They headed slowly down the path, cautious of what was ahead. Their journey down this narrow dirt path seemed endless, until they finally came upon this large collaboration of light grey, rectangular shapes sticking out of the rock wall ahead of them.

The house seemed massive than Samuel had heard. They stared in awe at its unique construction, completely oblivious to how coincidentally accurate their first guess was. Once they got over the incredible feat of the architecture, they noticed the two large trucks parked outside the entrance.

These trucks were similar to the one the two were driving in, in such that they had a sort of contraption in the front of them, most likely used as a forceful way to get past obstacles, and a full set of off-road tires.

The trucks were all a terribly painted black, which was dull and messy. Despite its unappealing aesthetic look, these trucks were heavy-duty machinery, and possibly a very useful item in their owners' survival.

"This looks like the place. This seems like something Hardwin would want." Samuel said.

"Those rich bastards always liked big, meaningless things," Trevor said, "they're probably compensating for something." The two chuckled.

"Let's get our shit together." Samuel's tone suddenly shifted to seriousness. "These trucks are similar to this one, and the men who owned this one were not the most hospitable bunch. We will most likely be shooting our way in or out – maybe both." Samuel said.

Trevor checked his gun to see if it was loaded.

"I'm set. Let's hope we don't have to kill too many people, for your sake." Trevor said and got out of the car. He started for the front door when three men stood up from a balcony above him and fired down.

The men missed, and Trevor ran behind the truck Samuel sat in. The blood rushed through Samuel's veins and the adrenaline pumped through him. He ripped the door out of place and got out of the truck. His eyes a blood red, he looked at the men shooting at him and Trevor.

The men stopped shooting. One guy looked over to the other two.

"That's him, guys! The fucking freak that shot at me and killed the other guys!" he said.

The two other men aimed their guns at Samuel, who was now their primary target. If he could kill four men and injure another in less than a second, they knew he would be a formidable opponent.

The man from the market had a pistol and the other two had large assault rifles. The two had the same get up as the first. They wore black outfits with gas masks.

The two men were of a larger build than the first. Their larger stature and apparent strength allowed them to carry the large machine in their hands. They fired down on Samuel, who seemed unaffected by the shots. He let out a roar and headed to the second story. He jumped from platform to platform, avoiding the incoming bullets. He kept his eyes locked on the fifth platform, and finally reached it. He jumped onto one of them men and started to rip him apart limb from limb.

The other two could only stare in horror as this man was ripped apart by Samuel's immense strength. Intestines flew over the platform, and blood soaked the material.

Samuel then moved onto the other large man, smashing him against the rocks that surrounded the platform until his head was nothing but a red splotch on the wall.

Samuel looked at the last man. He trembled in fear as Samuel walked slowly over to him. Samuel stopped and started at him for a moment, before picking him up and throwing him over the side of the balcony. The drop was around thirty feet, and the man hit the hood of one of the trucks below, instantly killing him.

Meanwhile, Trevor headed into the main entrance of the house. He carried his pistol, and slowly headed through the hall. He walked into the first room. Samuel was right. It was _much_ bigger on the inside.

The room color was a light grey, with antiques lining the walls. Two stair cases followed the circular walls and led to the second story, which had an indoor balcony. Two pillars stood in the middle of the first floor, holding the ceiling up. He looked in awe at his surroundings, imagining with what could have been done with all the money put into the building.

While he gazed at the priceless artifacts and other treasures, six men ran up to the edge of the second story.

"Hey, asshole!" The taller man yelled to Trevor. "What do you think you're doing here!?" He asked.

Samuel got into cover behind a pillar and answered the man's question.

"I'm here for something extremely valuable to my cause. My friend and I have come here to seize it. We _will_ obtain it, whether we have to kill every one of you or not. He is currently tearing through you men from the top story. He is practically unstoppable. You don't stand a chance." Trevor threatened.

"Whatever that fucker thinks he's gonna do, he won't succeed. I'm sure our firepower topples yours; there is no point in fighting!" The man looked at both his sides. He stood in the middle of the group. He pointed to the pillar and signaled for the group to fire out at the pillar.

The five men started to fire their rifles at the pillar. The construction of it, being an extremely strong material, was going to need a good amount of fire power to hit Trevor.

The pillar was wide enough to keep Trevor protected, but he still flinched as he felt the pillar shake and the tiles next to him exploded. He didn't know what to do. He felt powerless with only his pistol clenched tightly in his bony grip. The adrenaline flowed through his body. His heart beat was racing at this point and time seemed to slow down. He could practically see the bullets pierce the floor and see the tiles exploding into dust. Whatever this was, he loved every second of it.

A wild thought popped into his head: use this burst of adrenaline to take out the men shooting at him. The gunfire ceased, and the sounds of magazines dropped to the floor.

This was Trevor's shot. The second pillar wasn't too far from the first; at least in his perspective.

He dove for it. In his mind, he flew across the room, and slowly at that. He aimed his gun at the men, shocked expressions on their helpless faces. He aimed down the sights, and pulled the trigger. The shell fell slowly to the floor, one after the other. He eventually slid to the ground, and time restored itself to its normal pace. He killed the five men shooting at him, and he lay in the middle of the floor, far away from the pillar.

The last man looked at Trevor, then to the bodies of his fallen comrades, and then back to Trevor. He took out his weapon from his waistband.

"You son of a bitch…" He whispered. He took out what appeared to be a machine pistol, with an abnormally long magazine. He pulled back the hammer and aimed at Trevor, who was already heading to the other pillar.

Hiding behind the pillar from more, repetitive gunfire, Trevor hoped for a miracle as he reloaded his low-capacity pistol. He wished Samuel had been there to kill this guy…

The gunfire stopped, and the man with the machine pistol screamed in horror. The distinct sound of flesh tearing rang through the room, which was followed by a gurgling sound.

Trevor peeked around the pillar, and he saw Samuel behind the man. Samuel had the man's head in one hand, and the rest of his body in the other. Samuel tossed the head to the side and threw the rest of the man's body over the balcony.

"Speak of the devil…" Trevor spoke under his breath.

"You miss me?" Samuel asked.

"You're a fucking life saver. Well, you and adrenaline." Trevor said.

"Let's find that serum and inject you already." Samuel said.

Trevor agreed and headed up the right staircase. He looked at all the expensive antiques that were scattered in indents in the wall. Mainly trophies, photographs, and an assortment of other rewards, nothing was of interest to Trevor. What interested him the most was deeper within the bowels of this priceless abode.

"There's an elevator down the hall, I'm sure it leads to a personal laboratory. If we should check anywhere, it's there." Samuel said. His eyes were still a fiery red, and he was breathing heavily.

"Are you alright, man?" Trevor asked, checking Samuel's eyes. "I have never seen you like this when you encountered another non-infected…"

"I'm fine!" Samuel roared at Trevor. "What I'm feeling should not concern you! Let's go!"

Trevor stepped back at Samuel's outburst. As Samuel walked down the hall, Trevor slowly followed, cautious of his friend's current mental status. Samuel walked over to the elevator and pressed a few buttons. He didn't know how it operated or where it would take them, but he hoped it would take them to a laboratory.

The elevator was small, and it was illuminated by a single light that was outside of the actual elevator. The two stepped inside. They were cramped, but it wasn't too bad. There were two buttons on the wall panel. The sign above one read 'Floor One,' while the other read 'Laboratory.'

"How convenient…" Samuel growled. He slammed the bottom button and stepped back into the elevator. Trevor could only look cautiously at Samuel as he let out his sudden anger at the inanimate object.

The elevator descended without any noise. The lights outside the elevator were scattered.

The elevator went dark for a few moments before the next light illuminated the small room. This went on for about a minute before a bell sounded, and the doors opened.

There was a long, white hallway. The bright lights overhead made the two's eyes burn. They adjusted to the brightness, and scanned their surroundings. There were paintings of random contributors to the science field on the walls. At the end of the hall, two large grey doors stood and barricaded them from the laboratory.

Samuel headed down the hallway to the set of double doors.

Each step echoed off the smooth walls. His heart rate increased as he stood in front of the grey panes of metal, and listened as a familiar voice spoke.

"Scanning for authorization..." The female voice said. Samuel wondered as to why Hardwin would have this scanning device installed; he wouldn't really need it since he was the only one accessing his lab. The realization hit him instantly.

"Access denied. Possible intruder detected. Threat level: High. Deploying sentry turrets." Samuel's eyes opened wide as two, small rectangular panes departed from the walls. The turrets beeped a few times, and aimed at Samuel.

They consisted of a single barrel, which led to an ammunition feeder. There sat a red light at the base of the turret, which was most likely used at a scanner. Samuel was surprised at the defenses of the laboratory, and wondered if this was even worth it.

The turrets began firing. They shot bullet after bullet in split second reactions. Samuel moved quickly around the barrage of bullets. The small caliber lead cones seemed to just bounce off Samuel.

The turrets stopped firing. The female voice sounded again.

"Detection of possible enhancement pathogen, resorting to secondary resort."

The turrets slid back into the wall, and the room went silent. Trevor was at the end of the hall, still in the elevator. The two looked at each other, speechless.

Four more turrets came out of the walls. They were of the same design of the first two, but these had a small flame lit at the end of the barrels. They were flame throwers. Samuel knew he wouldn't escape out of this one.

"Authorization granted…" The voice said again. The turrets went back into the walls. Samuel looked around in astonishment, and Trevor started towards Samuel and the door, relieved.

The two grey doors opened, and there led another hallway. The two walked towards that door, which was in a much more open space, and prepared to enter it, not knowing what defense mechanism could be inside.

Samuel kicked the door and aimed his gun into the lab. He lowered it when he saw who was inside.

People. Men, women, children. There were about fifty in all. They all cowered from the two men breaking into their refuge. The all moved away, breathing heavily. One young adult, who looked no more than fifteen, stood up with a pistol.

"W-who are you?" He stuttered. "W-why shouldn't I kill you now?"

Samuel's eyes went from red to blue. The kid was sweating and he uneasily held the pistol in both hands.

"You shouldn't kill us because, well, we aren't here to hurt you, and two, you can't." Samuel said.

"I'll show you!" The kid moved the gun away from Trevor and towards Samuel, and pulled the trigger. The kid missed, shooting the metal wall to the left of Samuel. He looked at the bullet hole, then back to the kid.

"We aren't here to hurt you; we are here only for one thing: the virus." Trevor said.

A man stood up near the front. He looked about sixty years old. His hair was white and he had a rough voice. "Then why did you kill our protectors? Those men outside were just making sure none of us would get hurt." The man argued. "Will you get us out of here? We need a place to stay, and we won't survive on our own…"

Samuel felt another immense surge of anger rush through him. He knew these people were up to something. A kid just shot at him, after all. His eyes shifted to red once more, and he raised his assault rifle, aiming it at the innocent people.

Trevor could only watch in horror as Samuel shot every last man, woman, and child in the room. The white walls were stained red from the amount of blood spilt. When he finally killed every last one, he lowered his gun, let out a long sigh, and started to walk to the back, which had a safe built in.

The room was lined with machines, now splattered with the blood of these helpless people. Trevor couldn't move, he just stared at the bodies of these people, stunned at how Samuel could do this to them.  
They opened the doors for the two, and this is how Samuel repays them?

Trevor finally had it in him to speak, "Samuel…" He began. "What the fuck?!"

Samuel wrapped his fingers around the wheel of the safe. He gripped it tightly, and ripped the wheel off with such force. A cloud of metal circled around the small wall safe. He fiddled around with the container a bit more and eventually got it open.

There was no sign of the vial. A few smaller containers were in the safe, and stacks of money were all that was in the safe.

Samuel started at the dead end and slammed against the metal wall, denting it. He opened up each individual box. One held more money, another held a few collectables.

Samuel reached for the third box. He lifted it up and opened it. This box had nothing. He threw back the small wooden box at the safe, which splintered and broke on impact, revealing another part of the safe.

Samuel looked at the glowing crack in the wall, and pushed the cracked pieces of plaster out of the way. It seemed this safe wasn't even complete.

Meanwhile, Trevor stood at the other end of the room, and stared at the bodies. He was still distraught that Samuel had done that. He didn't notice Samuel come back with the vial.

"Say what you will, but they were liabilities, and that one kid shot at me." Samuel tried to defend himself.

"You didn't have to kill every last one of them." Trevor whispered. He looked at the vial, and finally snapped out of his trauma induced trance. "You found it!" Trevor said excitedly.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You saw what I did. This could happen to you." Samuel brought up the downsides to the infection.

"I am sure I want to do this. Let's search through this guy's house for a needle or something." Trevor said, heading back to the elevator, carefully stepping over the bodies as to not disturb the mass grave.

Samuel followed, not being as cautious to the bodies as Trevor was. She caught up to Trevor and the two walked down the white, metallic hallway. The lights overhead flickered and the metal doors behind them closed.

"Have a nice day." The female voice said.

Samuel and Trevor walked onto the elevator and faced the metal doors. Trevor hit the button to go to first floor.

Slowly, but steadily, the elevator crawled to the top of the shaft. Once the doors opened, the two headed to the bathrooms of the house. They searched every last room, and every last cabinet for a syringe or anything they could use to inject Trevor with the virus.

Samuel looked through the master bedroom's nightstands. He finally found one that had a syringe for them to use.

Samuel was relieved. He opened up the vial carefully and extracted the blue fluid, filling about half of the needle.

"Trevor!" He called to him.

"Did you find one?!" Trevor asked back, running to where Samuel was.

"Let's get this over with. Let's find a chair or something to put you in." Samuel said. He headed downstairs, Trevor following him close by, and they walked to the kitchen. Samuel pulled out an expensive looking chair and instructed Trevor to sit.

"This might hurt a bit." Samuel said. He rolled up the sleeve of Trevor's jacket, and injected his forearm with the blue fluid.

Trevor bore a pained look on his face. He looked at his arm, which faded to a pinkish hue around the injection point.

"Oh, shit, this hurts…" He whispered. Trevor's blood vessels glowed through his skin, shining white. The infection spread from his arms to his torso in seconds, then moving to his other arm, and legs. Just like it did with Samuel, the infection halted at the neck, not intruding the brain until the rest of the body was under its control.

During this minute long process, Trevor screamed in agony, begging for the torture to end.

"What the fuck!" He yelled, "How did you survive this?!"

The infection started slowly up Trevor's neck, darkening his original color skin. The white glow of the blood vessels followed shortly behind. His screams became wails as he felt the worst pain imaginable. He was on the floor by now, thrashing away at the air.

"I didn't." Samuel said dramatically.

Trevor stopped thrashing around, and his body laid there on the tiles. Blood trickled out of his mouth and nose. Samuel stood there for a few more seconds and gazed upon Trevor's corpse.

After a few moments of silence, Trevor opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked at the glass ceiling and adjusted to what had just happened.

He looked at Samuel, whose eyes were glowing a light yellow.

"that was awful…" He said silently. "Why the hell does it hurt so much?"

"I'm not really sure. Hardwin didn't say why it did in his audio log you took from me?" Samuel said jokingly.

"Funny." Trevor said sarcastically. He tried to stand up, but he stumbled into the kitchen table. "Why can I barely stand up?" He asked, trying to use the kitchen table as a support to get him on his feet.

"That happened to me to. It'll take a bit to get walking right again." Samuel assured him.

Once he got to his feet and uneasily regained his balance. Trevor went over to a small table near the two. He slid his hand along the engravings. Trevor then raised his hands, clenched his fingers, and in a single, quick movement, swung them down onto the table, snapping it in half.

"Looks like it worked." He chuckled. He turned around and faced Samuel. Trevor's muscles pulsed slightly with each of his re-started heart beats. His eyes had shifted to a light red.

"I'm relieved it did," Samuel said, "I was worried that I would have lost you, and that I would be leaving here alone."

"You still have me, Sam." Trevor said. The two picked up their weapons, and headed back to the stolen truck. The front doors opened automatically, and Samuel helped Trevor hobble to the giant truck. The sun had started to set by now, and Samuel thought Trevor was not in any way fit to drive.

Throwing him in the passenger seat, Samuel then headed to the driver side. He opened the door, but before he entered, he looked back at the dark house. He stood in silence and looked at the architectural marvel, wanting to forget the events that had taken place there.

"You coming, Sam?" Trevor leaned over and asked.

"Yeah, I just…" He stopped and thought of how to put his next words. "I don't even know why I killed those people, we obviously could've taken them, but they were only defending themselves." He got into the car and shut the door. "It was on a terrible impulse, I didn't want to kill them, but I felt like things would've gone worse if they were there."

"I understand." Trevor said, putting a hand on Samuel's shoulders. "You did what you thought was right, and chances are things would've gone south if we kept them alive. We should not dwell on that now. There is no way to change it. We should get back. I could use a drink; my entire body is killing me."

Samuel agreed and started the truck. He flipped the lights on, which illuminated the blood splatters and showed the dead bodies on the floor. The two tried not to look at them, and Samuel turned around, heading quickly down the dirt path.

He got to the main road eventually, and sped down the black pathway as fast as the truck could handle. The two were worried that something might've happened, since they were gone for so long.

**Chapter 8**

The massive truck roared up to the round-a-bout in the front of the school. The two men inside it stared in disbelief at the one-strong refuge.

The entire entrance of the building was blown open. Bodies littered the streets, many of which were dressed in the same outfit. They were the exact ones from Hardwin's house that attacked Samuel and Trevor.

"Oh, shit." Trevor said. He quickly got out of the car and ran inside, Samuel following not far behind him. They looked around the main lobby, which was empty. A few bodies of men that lived in the refuge were put in a pile in the corner.

"Oh good God…" Samuel said silently. He looked around the room; bodies hung from the balcony, heads were mounted of the edge of the staircases.

Trevor's eyes went from blue to red. He breathed more heavily and his face bore a scowl.

"I was supposed to protect these people…" he said to himself. "And I failed them… They aren't even here, and we couldn't find the bodies"

"Trevor, relax…" Samuel said.

Trevor chuckled, "Well, I'm sure these were part of the guys from Hardwin's house, and we paid them back alright. Fuck that whole speech about those people; they deserved to die." His eyes were bloodshot.

"Well, what do you propose we do?!" Samuel said, his eyes shifting to the same hue of red as Trevor's.

"I propose we find out if those assholes have our people, and we slaughter some fucking assholes!" Trevor said.

"Let's get a move on, then!" Samuel yelled back with a smile on his angry face. "Let's grab a pack of smokes while we're at it!"

"There's a pack in the car." Trevor said. The two walked back to the truck, they loaded their weapons and got in.

Starting the engine, Samuel reached over to the glove box and took out the pack of cigarettes and the lighter next to it. He took one out, and handed it to Trevor. He took out another one and lit his and his friend's

"How are we even supposed to find these guys?" Trevor asked when Samuel drove onto the highway.

"No clue. We probably should check back at Hardwin's old place to see if they went back there. If they took a good amount of people from the school, for God knows what reason, chances are they have a sixteen wheeler or something to keep them in." Samuel said.

"That's some serious shit…" Trevor said, watching the rooftops.

"And anything before this hasn't been fucked up?" Samuel asked sarcastically. He noticed movement on his right side through the darkness. He stopped the car.

"Why are we stopping?" Trevor asked. He looked around frantically trying to see if Samuel saw the truck.

"I think we have a few visitors." Samuel said quietly.

Upon finishing his response, a pair of arms broke through the window of the driver's side. The cold grip clutched Samuel's shirt, and pulled him out of the car. Samuel was thrown hard at the railing, and that terrible screech wailed in front of him.

Samuel's head started to scream, and as the infected landed blow after blow, Samuel's eyes started to turn a dark red. As two more infected came over the railing of the highway, Samuel could not defend himself. His position made it difficult to free himself.

Suddenly, one of the infected stopped and flew back over the railing. The other two stopped and looked at where the other had been. There stood Trevor, with bloodshot eyes and a look of craziness.

He let out a low roar of his own, and charged the other two infected. He picked one up by the legs in a quick motion, and used it as a weapon against the other one, hitting him into a lamp post.

The infected he had in his grip was now just the bottom half, since the top half ripped off with the initial swing. Trevor dropped the thing's legs, and went back over to the other infected, which was lodged in the lamp post. The man screamed and thrashed at Trevor, but to no prevail. Trevor jumped onto the post, and thrusted his fist into the thing's head, leaving nothing but a giant hole.

Trevor jumped back down to the ground let out a screech. He then fell to the ground, bones cracking, and screamed. He felt a huge amount of pain, as did Samuel. They both screamed in pain as their minds went back to their sane state.

Samuel and Trevor stopped screaming. Trevor looked up, and went over to Samuel. Barely conscious, he saw his friend breathing heavily on the ground.

"Hey… you alright?" Trevor asked in between gasps.

"This shit hurts more every time." Samuel responded, getting up.

"It hurts like a bitch, man. How do you ever survive it? I thought I was going to die…" Trevor said.

"You get used to it after the first time." Samuel said, and headed back to the car, "It gets worse every time too. I usually pass out after an encounter with those fucks. I'm surprised I didn't pass out this time for a few hours."

"Is that why you didn't come back until, like, nine the other night?" Trevor asked, getting into the truck.

"Yeah." Samuel responded. "I think we're running out of gas, too."

"I don't think we'll find gas for miles." Trevor said sadly.

"I don't want to walk, let's hurry and get to Hardwin's house to see if those bastards are there." Samuel said, stepping on the gas and heading down the highway.

The two drove down the road, staying above sixty miles per hour, keeping their eyes open for any vehicle that could be holding a large group of people.

Once they got out of the city, the front tires of the car burst, and the car flipped over. The two yelled and clutched the dashboard. The truck flipped over multiple times, and rolled into a ditch, landing on its roof.

Samuel was on the borderline of consciousness when he heard voices in the distance. He assumed that they were of the men who attacked the school, so he whispered to Trevor to plan something.

"Trevor..." He called silently, "Trevor!" He whispered loudly. Trevor was unconscious. He was slumped on the roof of the car, a massive gash in his head. Samuel assumed that the virus hadn't taken its full effect on Trevor like it had on himself.

"This is one of the stolen cars, correct?" One man said.

"Yeah, it was taken outside a market in the city a few nights ago." Another man said.

"Maybe these guys were with that school that we kidnapped. Our building was raided, and cameras showed that two assholes in one of our trucks raided it. One of them was scaling the fucking balconies and shit."

"Damn. You think that those guys are in there? Why the fuck would Quinn want only two guys to get these fuckers. He should have a whole army here with us."

"You're fucking slow. Did you _not_ see the security footage? This guy can take out a whole army! And the second became like the first, so now there are _two_ of these fuckers."

The two approached the smoking truck. They tore open the doors and saw no one was in there. Their hearts raced quickly and they turned around, raising their guns.

"Where the fuck are the occupants?!" one of the two yelled.

"Do we even know if this was the right truck? What if it was one of ours?"

"I'm sure this was the stolen one. If this was one of our guys, they wouldn't have survived the crash."

"Stick close to each other. These guys are dangerous."

Samuel lingered in the shadows, waiting for these two to move. He didn't want to kill them; he had done enough killing for one day and he didn't want to go feral again. He crouched over Trevor's unconscious body and paid close attention to the two men's' movements. He fought his hardest to keep his anger under control and to not attack the two.

"Quinn, this is Greg. We got the truck, but there are no sign of the occupants. What do you want us to do?" The first man asked over a handheld radio.

Samuel didn't notice those upon first inspection. He didn't need to avoid them; he just needed them to disclose their hide out, then he and Trevor could rescue the others.

Samuel listened to the man on the other end of the radio, but he couldn't make out what the man was saying. If this 'Quinn' was the leader of these people, he sure was aggressive. The two men were clearly scared by Quinn's tone of voice.

"A-alright, sir. I'm sorry we couldn't find him. Over and out," the first man said again. The two men hurried to an opening in the woods. The second man unlocked a car, and they got in. The model was the same as the truck Samuel stole, and they immediately drove out and back towards the city.

Samuel needed to find out where these guys were hiding out. He didn't know how long Trevor would be unconscious for. He was going to take the chance.

As the car sped up and nearly reached the city, Samuel darted quickly through the trees, avoiding trunks and roots. He kept his eyes locked on the truck. He ran only at about twenty-five miles per hour, the truck doing at least fifty down the long, straight road.

The truck wouldn't be able keep that speed in the city, due to the city's construction, which would be an advantage to his pursuit.

The truck's engine echoed off the concrete walls. Samuel jumped from alley way to alley way as the truck had to make its way through the streets.

After about ten minutes of following in the shadows, Samuel watched as the men rolled to a stop in front of a scrap yard. They blared the horn for a few moments, which was followed by the opening of the gate. Whatever these men did to the front gates took a lot of time and materials.

The scrap yard, positioned in between two tall, concrete, federal buildings was always a secure area, due to its surroundings of poverty. The front gate, reinforced with a few layers of steel, was designed to take a few rams from a truck. The fences were eight feet high, with a block of bricks every few meters for structural support, with a chain link fence and multiple layers of barbed wire to keep out thieves.

These men reinforced the scrap yard with more layers of metal and other parts. Cars lined the inside fence. They were all missing wheels and doors, and looked like they had been there for a while.

A giant crane stood in the center of the yard, spot lights on top illuminated the entire yard, leaving nowhere to hide from the multiple three-person guard patrols. Every few yard along the path the guards took stood poles, topped with torches.

"I need to get in there…" Samuel whispered quietly, "First, I need to get back to Trevor."

"I'm right here, Sam." Trevor suddenly said, climbing up the side of the building.

"Trevor! I thought you were out cold! How did you know I was here?" Samuel asked.

"After you started running I came to. The engine of those guys' truck woke me up."

"Good… good." Samuel said, turning back to the scrap yard. "Do you see this place? I think the people from the school were taken here. There is a sixteen wheeler in the back of this yard; I think they're in there." Samuel informed Trevor.

"Should we go and see? We can't wait for back up. We don't have any one." Trevor said.

"Wait; hold on, they're opening the back of the trailer." Samuel said, crouching down to try to keep himself hidden. Trevor did the same.

One guy dressed in a business suit walked out of the main building next to the crane. He had a glass of something in one hand, and a cigar in the other. He walked with two masked guards at his side.

Trevor recognized him. He was Quinn Aldante, a powerful automotive manufacturer. He had a chain of scrap yards and car manufacturing plants across the United States; hence, his status as the boss of this post-apocalypse safe area.

"I know that guy," Trevor whispered as the two watched the suited man walk over to the back of the trailer, "He's a business tycoon, works with automotive technology."

"What do you think he's gonna do?" Samuel asked.

"I'm not sure. I heard that this guy has a private army, and these guys must be it. Let's hope it isn't our guys in that truck…" Trevor said.

The two watched closely as Quinn walked smugly to the back of the truck. He took a key out of his pocket and opened up a lock on the trailer. He ripped the doors open and stepped to the side, keeping he look peered to the inside of the trailer. He ushered whoever was in there out. The two guys held their breath and waited impatiently for who was going to step out.

Their fears were confirmed. One by one, each familiar face from the school stepped out of the white truck and followed the guards to an open area. They were next forced onto their knees. Samuel knew exactly what these guys were doing.

"Oh, shit… are they…?" Trevor began.

"I think they are, Trevor…" Samuel said with a hint of anger and sadness in his voice.

"We have to do something."

"No, we can't. We may have immunity to a few bullets, but we'd get destroyed by their firepower." Samuel said.

The two were helpless as they watched as the people that they swore to protect we lined up and pushed to their knees. The women and children cried, and the men couldn't do anything to comfort their wives. Tears streaming down their face, the women and children begged for their lives.

"Fuck this. I'm going to help them." Trevor said. He jumped to a nearby rooftop, scaling his way over to the building next to the large scrapyard.

"Damn it, Trevor…" Samuel said silently. He followed his lead, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

By now, the two were in hearing distance of Quinn. He walked slowly in front of the knelt down survivor.

"It's such a shame that your friends killed our civilians." Quinn said. "We should probably pay them back, right?" He turned his head and asked one of the guards that was dressed slightly different from the rest.

"That seems like the best course of action," the man said in a scruffy voice, "maybe we should show them just how bad they fucked up."

"No, no. We shouldn't blame _them_ for the death of those people; after all, it wasn't them." Quinn said.

"Then why are you doing this?!" One woman on her knees screamed through tears.

Quinn chuckled.

"Because, my dear," he began, "I need those two for revenge. They killed the people that _I_ was supposed to protect, so I think that the death of the people he was meant to protect would be equal punishment."

"I won't allow this, Samuel." Trevor said angrily. His eyes were now a crimson red, and he was breathing heavily.

"Trevor…" Samuel began.

Before he had any time to talk him out of it, Samuel watched as Trevor jumped down into the scrap yard, making a commotion with the guards and Quinn. Trevor landed on a rusty, old car, leaving a large indent where he landed. The rust from the car peeled off quickly as Trevor impacted the old vehicle.

"Ah, excellent. Right on time." Quinn said to himself with a smirk.

Samuel reluctantly followed Trevor and landed in the dirt in front of the car. Their eyes a crimson red by now, Samuel and Trevor stood tall, waiting to see what these guards would do.

The guards raised their rifles at the two super humans. Ready to fire, they yelled at the all at once.

"Stop right there!"

"Get on your knees! Now!"

"We'll blow a hole in your heads!"

"Wait, do not shoot them," Quinn broke through their threats. He took his suit jacket off and handed it to one of the guards next to him. "They're mine." He said dramatically.

Samuel and Trevor stared suspiciously at Quinn. What could he be able to do to them? They saw him as no threat.

Trevor, fueled by rage and hatred for this man for kidnaping the people he was meant to protect, rushed at Quinn.

At nearly light speed, Quinn countered Trevor's punches, and round-house kicked him into a nearby sixteen wheeler. The truck nearly tipped over from the immense force of Trevor flying into it. He was lodged right in the side of the truck, the metal holding him in place like an iron maiden.

Samuel was frozen in shock. He _could_ fight against them. Quinn, whatever he was, was stronger than the both of them.

"Well, almost broke a sweat there." Quinn said mockingly at Samuel. Quinn seemed… different, much bigger than before, as if he had grown slightly when he threw Trevor into the truck. "What is the matter, Samuel?" Quinn asked with a smirk, "You thought _you_ were the only person not turned into a monster?"

He picked up half of a car and wailed it at Samuel. Hitting him without a moment's notice, Samuel flew back, smashed between the car Trevor landed on, and the part Quinn threw at him. Debris from the piles of scrap metal fell inwards, piling more weight onto Samuel.

"Get these people into the main building, lock yourselves in, and don't open up unless it's me, and I have their heads. They could possibly break through the doors, so be ready." Quinn spoke to a guard.

Nodding, the guard motioned for the people to be taken into the nearby building, which was built with concrete and giant metal doors.

Once the doors had shut, Quinn waited for them to lock. He had taken great precautions in making sure that his place was a fortress. He smiled slightly and chuckled. He walked over to the pile of scrap metal, inspecting it for a moment. He thrusted his hand into the pile, grabbed Samuel by the collar, and then pulled him out.

Quinn hoisted him up into the air, inspecting the clothing of his enemy.

"I've been waiting a long time to meet you, Samuel." Quinn whispered. "I am so glad you and I finally had a chance to meet." Quinn tossed Samuel onto the metal platform in the center of the scrap yard.

Samuel was nearly unconscious. The damage he had been dealt from that car had fractured his tough skin, and he had multiple slashes from metal. He coughed up blood, and looked up at Quinn.

"Who- who are you?" Samuel asked through a mouthful of blood.

Quinn just stood there, staring down at his fallen enemy. He thought of the right words to say, but they escaped him. "I, Samuel, am your end. I've been sent by a force more powerful than you have ever known."

Samuel did not know what Quinn meant by this. He stared at the towering man with a confused look. The pain coursing through his body clouded his acceptance of the situation.

"Prepare to die," Quinn said. Quinn's entire eyes suddenly shifted to black, with little yellow streaks floating over, like oil in water. Quinn picked Samuel up and threw him, again, into the ground. He began to send punch after punch into Samuel's chest.

Coughing up blood onto Quinn's face, Samuel did not have enough energy to fight back. He knew his end was coming, and all he could do was accept it.

"Hey, asshole!" A friendly voice screamed at Quinn. The two of them looked at the source, and noticed it was a bloodied Trevor, standing injured in front of the truck. "We are not done here, Aldante."

Quinn stopped punching Samuel, and started to walk slowly over to Trevor, his eyes still black.

"Ah, this is _too_ much." Quinn said with a chuckle. "You think you can stand a chance against me? That really is the funniest thing I have ever heard. I knew you men were persistent, but this is ridiculous."

Trevor wiped the blood off of his forehead and stared into Quinn's menacing eyes. Trevor knew what he was doing, and he would risk everything if it meant saving Samuel. Trevor got into a fighting stance, and prepared for whatever Quinn was going to throw at him.

Quinn stopped a few yards away from Trevor, the two standing in the center of a small, dirt field.

"I am at a loss of words for how idiotic you must be, my friend." Quinn mocked. "If you want to throw away your life for this disgrace of a human being, be my guest."

"I'm prepared to die for the people I promised to protect." Trevor said.

Samuel picked himself up while the two men talked. He stood there on the metal platform, staring at his bloodied body.

Trevor straightened himself out, and rushed at Quinn. Blocking most of Trevor's punches, he was finally hit by and uppercut, sending him flying back into a pile of cars.

"Is that all you got, Trevor?" Quinn laughed. He picked himself up, and dusted off his black suit vest and straightened his tie. "You should surrender now; work with me. We can survive together."

"There is no point in bargaining with me, Quinn. It will not work." Trevor yelled. He ran over to Quinn again. As before, time seemed to slow down for Trevor. He did not know what had caused this, but he knew that this could change the entire tide of his battle.

He thought of any way to finish this man off. Nothing came to mind. Everything he thought about could've been countered by this creature. Focused on Quinn's face, he saw a smile grow. Did he know what Trevor was doing?

Time seemed to revert to normal as Trevor lost his focus, and was grabbed by Quinn. He swung him around and pushed him into the pile of cars, getting him stuck.

Struggling, he could not escape the super human's grip. Quinn chuckled a bit, mocking Trevor's attempts. Quinn began to lay down punch after punch like he did with Samuel. Only, this time, the punches were starting to break bones. Hundreds of pounds of pressure landed onto Trevor's torso. Ribs shattered, and Trevor began to black out.

"I guess I get two birds with one stone, huh?" Quinn said as he pulled back his right fist. He threw it into Trevor's chest, piercing the skin and running his hand all the way through to the car behind him.

Trevor coughed up more blood; his eyes wide open from the pain. All Samuel could do was watch as his friend was taken and thrown aside like nothing. Quinn looked at Trevor's dying body, and then to Samuel.

"See what happens, Samuel? When you try to go against me?" Quinn said, beginning to walk over to him.

Samuel stared at Trevor's bleeding, dead body, surrounded by a pool of his over blood. He ignored Aldante as he watched the life leave Trevor's eyes, the red irises shifting back to the original brown.

Quinn laughed, mocking Samuel's loss.

"Do you think you could stop me now, Samuel?"

Samuel's heart was beating quickly. He looked back to Quinn and his blood began to boil. His face turned red from rage, and His entire eyes filled up with red.

Samuel let out a loud roar as he let Quinn know that he was going to strike. Quinn smiled at Samuel, but that smile turned into a shocked expression as he watched Samuel's cuts heal, and his muscles pulsate and grow. The sight was starting to give Quinn doubt, but he knew that he could take him.

Quinn ran at Samuel, landing punch after punch into his stomach. As he struck, he failed to notice how his enemy was virtually unaffected; he didn't flinch, nor did he move in the slightest.

Now easily a few inches taller than before, towering Quinn, Samuel let out a primal grunt as he swung his grown forearm into Quinn, sending him soaring. He yelled at he flew through the air and landed into the car compactor.

He hit the bottom with a loud thud, and couldn't get up before Samuel stood atop the machine by the control panel. As he stared down at Quinn, Samuel's dark red eyes locked with Quinn's black ones.

"Samuel," Quinn began, "Don't do this. We can work together, we can survive this apocalypse; your people will live, and we can protect you."

Samuel was satisfied by the look of fear on this man's face. He picked up his arm, and quickly brought it down onto the yellow control panel. Samuel's eyes didn't even leave Quinn's as he turned on the car compactor and let the walls close.

"Samuel! Stop this now!" Quinn yelled. He tried to leap out of the compactor, but was intercepted as Samuel jumped and threw his fists onto Quinn, sending him shooting back into the compactor.

Samuel landed on the other side of the submerged car compactor and looked down at Aldante. Quinn realized that he would not escape. He looked up at Samuel, nodded, and then sat down in the middle of the compactor.

Samuel, now gone completely feral, laid his red eyes onto the control panel, and then back to Quinn.

The walls were nearly about to crush Quinn, as Samuel jumped down, picking Aldante by the back of his dress shirt and his waist band, and bringing him out of the compactor. Quinn stared in shock that Samuel took him out. His eyes resorted back to their original brown shade.

"Samuel…" He began, "Thank you." Quinn said with a smile.

Samuel's eyes still flared a dark red. He didn't _save_ Quinn; he wanted to kill him more personally.

Samuel let out a primal roar as he hoisted Quinn up by his head, and lowered him into the compactor, suspending him as the walls closed.

"You lying bastard!" Quinn yelled, trying, with all his strength, to keep the walls from crushing him.

He was to no prevail. The walls may have resorted to an even slower crawl by Quinn's efforts, but the pressure eventually broke his bones, shattering every last bone.

His face bore an expression of pure pain, as Samuel had suspended him from the neck down into the compactor. He let out blood curdling screams that could have driven the sanest man mad. The blood trickled out of every hole in his head as the rest of his body was flattened to the width of paper.

Samuel pulled up with Quinn's head, removing only from the neck up. He held the head in both hands, and proceeded to smash it in one single movement.

He let out a loud roar, and then looked to the warehouse where the guards brought the people. He wouldn't be able to get through the doors, so he walked to the side, inspecting the concrete walls.

He threw a single, incredible powerful punch into the concrete obstacle, and it nearly vaporized from sheer force.

He walked inside and was greeted by a sheet of gunfire from fully automatic weapons. They did nothing to his increased form, and he proceeded to slay every last guard shooting him. He left none alive, ripping them apart limb from limb as the refugees on their knees screamed in terror, blood spraying over them like rain.

Samuel held a man up by the neck as another shot him with a small caliber pistol. He crushed the man's neck and threw his lifeless body at the shooter. Three other men stood in the corner, taking potshots at Samuel while he killed the guards of Quinn Aldante.

Samuel paused for a moment and looked at the people he was supposed to protect. They gazed in fear at the creature.

"No!" One of the men screamed, and he began shooting into the crowd of tied up people, killing some. The other men joined in, killing most of the people that were visible around Samuel.

Watching this massacre, Samuel turned back to the other three men shooting at the people. They stopped, realizing that they had just made a terrible mistake.

"Oh, shit…" one said quietly as the hulking man strode over to a nearby tool container. Samuel grabbed it, spun around, and threw it at the three men, crushing them between the corner of the building and large tool box.

Samuel looked back at the people, who were crying and covered in blood, scared that the man they once let in was now going to kill them. After the casualties, there were about ten left.

Samuel's body began to hurt. His body was changing yet again, and the pulsation of muscles returning to their normal form snapped limbs out of place, and he fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Blood leaked out of his mouth as he blacked out on the floor.

**Chapter 9**

Samuel woke up in a pool of his own blood. He pushed himself up, his body in a terrible amount of pain. The sun was beginning to rise, and he was in the middle of a sea of dead bodies, either brutally mutilated or shot.

"Oh, thank God!" A man called from behind him. It was one of the people from the refuge. "We thought you died!" He was surrounded by a few other people, the men of the group arming themselves with the fallen men's guns.

"What?" Samuel muttered. He barely remembered last night; all he remembered was up to when Trevor and he had jumped down to save the people from the refuge...

"We know what happened to Trevor… we're sorry," one woman said with tears in her eyes, "He was a great guy…"

It hit Samuel like a wave of buried feelings. Trevor had died. It was hard for him to accept again, since he was the type of guy who could take anything and brush it off, even the death of his own brother.

"Shit…" Samuel mumbled. He got to his feet, fighting the pain and rushing outside, followed by the group of survivors. His body lay where it had been thrown. Trevor's eyes were open, giving the one thousand yard stare.

Samuel stopped feet before his body, and fell to his knees. He might have not known him for long, but it felt like a lifetime. He couldn't speak. Millions of words wanted to come out, but none of them did. Tears began at his eyes, but he wiped them away, trying to hide his sniffling from the other people.

"Sam…" One man said.

"No," Samuel said, holding back tears. "Get into a truck or something, I'm going to escort you back to the school, and then you get into the police trucks, and get out of here. They can take a hit, so you should be fine."

"What about you?" the same man asked.

"I'm going to hold them back, keep them away from you guys. It would be best if you gathered all the food that they stole, if it's still here, and get it all into the back of the sixteen-wheeler. Once you get to the school, immediately pack it into the back of one of the trucks. Two men drive that one and the rest pile into the back of another. I'll drive the third one into the city; the trucks should draw their attention." Samuel informed the ten people.

"What if it doesn't attract them? What'll you do then?" a man asked.

Samuel paused for a moment before answering. He motioned for the people to gather into the truck, which they did willingly.

"I'll draw them out myself. It's either going to be me, or them." Samuel said as he jumped into the truck and turned over the engine. "Now get into the truck and let's get to the school."

The people finally were all on, and Samuel hopped out to close to the door.

He stared at the ten people on board, and he slowly pulled down the door. Samuel walked back to the front in silence, getting in and driving off. He had never driven a sixteen wheeler before, but there was a first time for everything.

During the trip back to the school, Samuel ran through the events of the past two weeks in his mind. It felt so unreal, as if he was going to wake up in the alley way at any moment. He wanted to; he wanted all of this to be a terrible, terrible dream.

But it wasn't.

He revisited memories from his childhood. After all, if he was going to sacrifice himself for those people, why not relive his life?

He thought about his tenth birthday, his dog, Paladin, his first day of high school, he even went back to the time he went on the bus to go to boot camp. He didn't know why, but every last memory reminded him of why he was doing this.

He thought of Stacy, and George, wondering what had happened to the two he loved. Were they dead? Infected? Maybe they were even alive?

He could only hope.

He remembered the first day going overseas to Europe, being stationed at Fuerte de San García in Spain to help with the Red Revolution. Samuel was stationed there, and then moved to a temporary headquarters on the Front Line in North Eastern Germany.

The battles were many, and traumatizing. Samuel thought of the dozens of people murdered by his hand, for what? He wasn't fighting his own war. He was fighting that of politics.

Samuel shook it off, and focused on driving. He was only a few seconds from the school, and he expected to rush the people out of the truck soon.

The school sat around the corner, the sun rising about it, casting a shadow of the bell tower. Samuel sped up, and slowed down next to the trucks. He got out, not caring about the truck still running. He opened the back of the door, and ushered the people out of the back.

The people rushed into the trucks and one of the men got into the driver's seat.

"I'm an officer. I'll get it started and drive us." He said.

Samuel did not argue. He noticed the group had no food or water packed, so he did a quick look around the school. He found nothing that could help the group. On his way out, he noticed a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. He took them, and walked back. He got into the second truck, starting it with his scan.

The engines ignited to life. Samuel and the other driver signaled to each other, and they started driving. They sped down the road, and headed to the highway.

Along the way, he flashed back into his childhood. He wanted to remember everything before this happens. He wanted to be filled with even the slightest wave of hope in this world of despair. He remembered the first day getting Paladin. He was a puppy in the local animal shelter, and Samuel just _had_ to have him. He tugged his mother's sleeve and begged. Reluctantly, she agreed, and little Sammy had his new dog.

Brushing off the memories yet again, he decided it would be wise to get off the highway soon; they needed to find a place suitable to attract the infected for the survivors' escape.

They got off into the center of the city: exactly where Samuel wanted to go. They picked up the pace, and Samuel pulled over, sounding off the horn of the truck, attempting to attract the infected's attention.

Samuel took out the pack and the lighter. He lit a cigarette, and stood silently as the wind helped burn down the cigarette. He kept his eyes down the road, towards the forest.

The screeches echoed off the walls. Windows shattered, car alarms went off, and chills went down Samuel's spine. He was walking into his death. This road would be his grave. He knew he wouldn't survive the onslaught of those things. He was just hoping that they could escape without any losses.

Samuel signaled for the car to go ahead. The driver roared past Samuel and headed down the road. One infected ran into the street, followed by more. Samuel could feel the anger and feralization starting to surface. He fell to his knees, and covered his head. He grunted and groaned in pain, and as the infected's numbers increased as they poured into the city like water, Samuel grew stronger and stronger.

Meanwhile, the survivors looked out the back windows as the horde of infected rushed into the streets. Tiny screams and gasps escaped their lips. The infected were catching up to the truck. The driver tried to go as fast as he could in the hunk of metal. He was nearly out, until more infected swarmed in front of the car.

Skidding to a halt, the driver cowered in the seat. The infected ripped the doors open, and the survivors screamed in pure terror.

Before they jumped in and horrendously tore them apart, a shriek rang through the air like a siren. It molded around every building, nearly filling the city with its ear piercing decibels.

The infected stopped in their tracks, and looked for the source of the sound. They all turned around and saw it.

It was a lone man, standing in the center of the street. His veins were pulsating with white, and his irises shone red. He let out another shriek and stared down the seemingly endless legion of infected. In unison, they started towards the lone man, and the survivors shut the doors. They urged the driver to go.

"Wait! They are still blocking the car!" He yelled back to them as the creatures in front of the car walked around to gather around the back.

Samuel eyed the whole crowd of infected, unwilling to stand down. He let out more screeches and roars to try to attract them away from the truck.

The infected were out of the way, and the truck sped off down the road. That was Samuel's cue.

He started at a walk, then picked up his pace into a full on sprint towards the crowd. The infected did the same, running at full speed to meet Samuel half-way.

Samuel braced himself for the biggest fight of his life. His life flashed before his eyes as the distance between him and the wave of creatures shrank. The tension grew.

Samuel rammed his way into the horde, throwing bone-shattering punch after bone-shattering punch, killing infected with a single blow to the head. He was surrounded by them. They piled in from all over the city, and their true amount was finally unveiled. The infected filled blocks, and they all waited for their turn to take a swing at Samuel.

He sent them flying. They stood no chance against the strength of Samuel Greene. Body after Body flew into their air or into the ground. Samuel braved it, and used ever last drop of energy to fend off the assault of the undead.

He paid no attention to the hits they landed on him. Even though he felt every bit of pain, the adrenaline masked it, shrouding him in physical strength and bravery.

Samuel suddenly fell to the floor, having been pulled by his ankles. Being hit over and over again, the pain stopped when he was thrown across the street, being thrown into a building, he flew into the conference room of an office.

Three infected jumped into the room. They screeched, and ran at Samuel, who was still on the ground. One picked him up and threw him out of the window. The other two ran out and threw him to the ground, mid-air.

Samuel hit the ground hard on his back. He caused the pavement beneath him to crack, and the infected ran and swarmed him in seconds. Weak from the battle, he took punch after punch. He couldn't defend himself as he received blow after blow all over his body. The pain was excruciating.

A bright light shone in the center of his vision. A loud boom sounded off, but he didn't know from where. He knew he was dying, and he was ready to accept it. The light grew brighter and brighter, and the pain started to subside. The roars from the infected started to grow faint.

Was this it?

This was his end, wasn't it?

This couldn't be; he hadn't saved those people.

Samuel couldn't bear thinking he failed even _more_ people. The pain had stopped by now, and Samuel's vision was white.

Samuel forgot his worries, and closed his eyes.

"I'm ready." He said silently, the roars and screeches from the infected were mere muffles by now. The silent static rang through his ears.

**Epilogue**

The police officer took a right turn down the newly paved road. The screeches had long died down, as Samuel had hopefully led them away.

He tried to find a place he could stop and let the people out. He was sure they needed to stretch their tense, frightened muscles. The trees started immediately where the road ended. There was nowhere for him to stop.

He finally came across a short strip of dirt off-road. He slowed down, which startled the people in the back even more. Once he stopped and got out, he walked over, and opened the doors.

"You guys need to stretch a bit?" He asked casually.

"What?! We need to get away from the city!" One woman screamed at him.

The man flinched and smiled.

"Relax, we're far enough from the city, don't worry." He said with a soothing voice.

Their trip brought the survivors uphill, and the city stood on the horizon. A dead city now stood where a once-bustling powerhouse of steel was. They all stared at it, smoke rising from between the skyscrapers.

"Hard to believe that only two weeks ago we were living our daily lives, huh?" One man asked the driver.

"Yeah, sure is." The driver responded. The faint screeches could be heard in the distance, echoing off the dead buildings and filling the landscape.

The glittering of something above the clouds attracted their attention.

"Hey…" the driver began, "Do you guys see that?" he asked. They all agreed.

The glittering object descended slowly above the clouds. It seemed like a crazy hallucination to the survivors.

A loud boom sounded from the glittering light as whatever it was pierced through the clouds, making a giant hole form around the entry point. A shock wave flared through the forest, shaking the ground beneath the survivors' feet.

"Holy shit!" One woman screamed.

"What the hell is that?" another man asked.

The ball of light sped down into the city, seemingly on fire. The group just gazed at it.

As it disappeared behind the tall, glass buildings, they kept their eyes on the skyline for just a bit more seconds…

A giant explosion engulfed the city in a light yellow, translucent dome. The dome expanded to the edges of the city, and a low-pitched droning sound ripped through the air.

The people stood in silence; their mouths agape, as they watched the giant, supernatural dome shrink slowly back into the center of the city.

They didn't know what to say. They had never seen anything like this before.

"Wh-what?" the driver asked.

"Could it be something else?" a young adult asked.

"I- I don't know." The driver said once more. "Let's go, we shouldn't stay here anymore, that could be irradiated or something."

The people agreed, and they walked back to the vehicle, too mortified to speak. They didn't know what that was, or what it did, or what it would affect later on.

Once the driver closed the doors, he looked back at the city. The faint shape of that dome could be seen covering the skyline. He walked to the front, turned over the ignition, and sped down the road, to wherever this path would take them.


End file.
